


Blooming

by orphan_account



Category: Eternally - TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Music Video), TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Choi Soobin, Alpha Jeon Jungkook, Alpha Kang Taehyun, Alpha Park Jimin (BTS), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Asexual Huening Kai, Asexual Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Beta Huening Kai, Choi Yeonjun-Centric, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Established Choi Beomgyu/Kang Taehyun, Established Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Established Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Established Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, Established Relationship, Family, Fantasy, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Married Couple, Married Life, Near Death Experiences, Omega Choi Beomgyu, Omega Choi Yeonjun, Omega Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Omega Kim Taehyung | V, Omega Min Yoongi | Suga, Parenthood, Plague, Post Mpreg, Royalty, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 60,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yeonjun and Soobin, fifteen years after the war, are confronted with an enemy they have never seen before. As it threatens everything and everyone they love, they are forced to make a sacrifice.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Kang Taehyun, Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Huening Kai/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue: Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> ah, gods, it's here! The prologue is like a recap, so you can skip it if you want. Love you and thanks for reading! Also, for updating - my schedule has been a bit altered, so it's more likely that I'll be posting new chapters once a week only. Hopefully, though, I'll be able to do more.

Yeonjun and Soobin fall easily into place as the new emperor and empress of Ifan. Here’s not to say that it isn’t difficult - of course it is, though it certainly isn’t the hardest thing Yeonjun’s ever done. He’s fought a war for gods’ sake! 

And, of course, now he’s pregnant. His bulging stomach is rather difficult to get used to, no matter how slowly it seems to grow. But hey, he’s at least not expecting while in the middle of a war (cough, cough, Beomgyu). 

“Gods, I don’t know how you did it,” Yeonjun says, rubbing his stomach. Beomgyu laughs, adjusting Byeol on his lap. 

“It . . . was far from a walk in the park, let’s say that,” he says. Yeonjun scoffs at his brother-in-law, sitting back and propping his swollen feet up on the plush stool set out for him. He closes his eyes and releases a tired sigh, shaking his head. 

“Do you know if the ability to conceive twins is genetic or not?” Beomgyu says as he plays with his daughter. Yeonjun shrugs. 

“I haven’t a clue,” he says. He sighs again. “All I know is that I’m having twins, you had twins, and that’s that.” 

Beomgyu laughs, shaking his head as he begins to bounce Byeol up and down. 

Just then, the door opens. Taehyung grins at them, his hair pinned back from his face with pretty silver clips, as he drags his canvas and paints. 

“How are you feeling, Your Imperial Majesty?” he says, offering an exaggerated bow. Yeonjun laughs. 

“Awful,” he says. Taehyung laughs. 

“Kicking again?” he says. Yeonjun hums, nodding. Taehyung clicks his tongue, sighing as he puts the canvas on the easel. Yeonjun shifts in the chaise so he’s draped over it, kicking his shoes off. The older man, now a duke, sits down and kicks his own shoes off, rolling up his sleeves. His back is to Beomgyu and Yeonjun, revealing the large, nearly-finished painting of Namjoon and Seokjin. They’re laughing, standing next to each other with a backdrop of black and gold. It looks as if they’re standing before them and Yeonjun’s heart aches a bit. He wasn’t exactly close with either of them, though Soobin certainly was. Namjoon practically raised him and Seokjin was also very important to him, offering support when Namjoon died. And now, well, they’re both gone. Seokjin’s vanished without a trace while Namjoon’s been dead for . . . well, almost a year now. 

Yeonjun sighs softly, though he should’ve expected Beomgyu and Taehyung to hear him. Both Omegas look over, worry decorating their faces. 

“Would you like me to get Soobin-Hyung?” Beomgyu says. Yeonjun shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. 

“No, not now,” he says. He looks up at the painting. “I was - I was just thinking about them.”

Beomgyu and Taehyung both turn to the portrait. 

“They’re together now,” Taehyung rumbles. He smiles at Beomgyu and Taehyung. “We haven’t any need to worry about them for any longer; they’ve found their happiness. They’d want us to move on.” 

Yeonjun hums, sighing before smiling and nodding. 

“Yes, you’re probably right,” he says. “Sorry, it’s probably hormones.” 

“We don’t mind,” Taehyung says, laughing and shaking his head. He adjusts one of the pins holding his hair back. “Trust me, Yoongi-Hyung has been a  _ lot _ worse.” 

“Oh, gods, poor Jimin. I walked past the infirmary the other day and I heard him bawling his eyes out because he thought that the baby wouldn’t like him,” Beomgyu says. Taehyung barks a laugh, shaking his head as he continues to paint. 

“It’s quite strange, isn’t it?” he says. “He’s always so indifferent - now, it’s as if being silent will  _ kill _ him.” Beomgyu and Yeonjun both chuckle, just as the door opens. 

“There you are,” Soobin says. Yeonjun laughs as he walks over, pulling his husband close and kissing the side of his neck. Beomgyu gags and covers Byeol’s eyes, shaking his head while Taehyung turns his back to the couple. Soobin rests his hands on Yeonjun’s swollen belly, the scent of burning pine filling his nose. He leans his head back, lets it fall onto Soobin’s shoulder. 

“Miss me?” he teases and Soobin huffs, pressing his face into the crook of Yeonjun’s neck. 

“I’m supposed to be a dignified emperor,” he grumbles against his skin. “If you always ask whether or not I missed you after a few minutes away and make it obvious that I did, my people are always going to laugh at me.” 

“It gives you some substance,” Taehyung says. He shrugs. “To me, having a family-oriented emperor is  _ wonderful _ . It makes it seem - well, it makes  _ you _ seem more like a person rather than some faceless authority figure.” 

Soobin hums, not looking up as he scents Yeonjun. The older man shakes his head and moves back to press their lips together, kissing his husband softly. 

“Hyung, do you know where Taehyun is? I’m getting a bit worried about Sarang,” Beomgyu says. Soobin hums and looks up, pushing his hair back from his face with his hand. 

“He’s coming,” Soobin says. He sits up and rests his chin on the top of Yeonjun’s head, hands coming up to play with the golden circlet. “He also has Sarang, don’t worry.” 

“I mean, that’s what I would’ve expected,” Beomgyu says. Taehyung laughs as he continues to paint and Soobin looks up. 

“It looks good,” he says softly. Taehyung turns over his shoulder and smiles at the emperor. 

“Thank you,” he says. Soobin gets up from behind Yeonjun and walks to stand behind the older. He stares carefully at the painting, his expression unreadable. Yeonjun rises from his place on the chaise, then, and walks over, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist and trying (but failing) to rest his chin on his shoulder

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Soobin says. Yeonjun laces their fingers together and kisses his cheek, nuzzling him. “I - you didn’t have to do this.” 

Taehyun laughs softly and grins at him.

“I wanted to, though,” he says. Soobin laughs back, though the sound is soft and shy. Yeonjun hums worriedly. 

“And for that, I am forever in your debt,” Soobin says. “I could never do something like this.” 

Taehyung laughs again and shrugs, tucking a curl behind his ear. 

“Don’t worry, I know,” he says. Soobin snorts and shakes his head. 

[ _ Dear Theodosia _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKpJjdKcjeo)

“Sure, sure,” he says. He turns to Yeonjun, “Would you like to walk with me through the gardens?” 

“Always,” Yeonjun says, patting his stomach. Soobin shakes his head and laughs when he’s asked to get his husband’s shoes, helping them onto Yeonjun’s swollen feet as they slowly walk out of the room. The Ifanian palace halls are made of marble, smooth and covered with large, expensive rugs. The torches have more or less all been replaced by magic that lights up on command, though Hueningkai is trying to figure out a way to harness it so they don’t always have to get a new sorcerer to create them. 

“I miss them,” Soobin says softly as they walk through the corridors. Yeonjun hums and nods, rubbing his tummy. 

“I do too,” he says. He smiles at his husband and leans their foreheads together, closing his eyes. “I’m sure they’re quite proud of you, though. You’ve certainly exceeded everyone’s expectations.” 

Soobin hits him playfully and shakes his head. 

“Gods, you’re still so mean,” he says. “I can’t believe you. We’ve been married for nearly a year and you still tease me like we’re children back in the gardens.” 

Yeonjun laughs. 

“Well, someone such as yourself certainly can’t say you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when we married,” he says. Soobin shakes his head as they continue to walk, talking idly. They run into Taehyun sometime along the way to the garden and the Alpha waves at them as he carries his daughter to meet her mother. Jeongguk comes later, his long hair flowing behind him as he goes to find his husband, laughter bubbling out of him. 

“Gods, peace has never been so rare inside of a castle, has it?” Soobin says as he helps Yeonjun to sit down on one of the gardens’ stone benches. Yeonjun laughs and shakes his head. 

“It’s far better than what we both grew up with, is it not?” he says. Soobin hums, leaning his head on his shoulder. The flowers of the gardens are bright, stark against their emerald green stalks. The sunlight is warm against Yeonjun’s skin and he closes his eyes, sighing happily. The two children growing inside of him also seem to enjoy the feeling of the sun, though it’s not like they can feel it. Geong-Min had explained to him that they liked how he relaxed under it, though Yoenjun still likes to say that his children can feel it. He’s excited to become a father, to see the heirs of this new age grow. There’s a sense of pride he gets from the thought that his children will lead this empire forward just as he and Soobin plan to. 

“Are you excited?” he says to his husband. 

“Excited? Yeonjun, I’m over my head about this!” Soobin says, some of his boyish innocence shining through. Yeonjun laughs at him and kisses him, bursting at the seams with love for the man before him. He pulls him close and presses their foreheads together, rocking back and forth. 

“I’m so happy it’s you,” he says. Soobin grins at him and kisses his cheek. 

“Me too,” he says. “Me too.”

Yeonjun’s pregnancy is deceptively easy. The gods smile down at him, allowing him a quick labor and an easy birth. Minjun and Soo-Jung are both the sweetest, most adorable babies Yeonjun has ever seen, something he proudly professes as he lies back in his bed and nurses his children. Soobin lies down beside him with a heavy sigh, wrapping an arm around his husband’s shoulders and tugging him close. 

“Gods, they’re perfect,” he says. Yeonjun laughs, a bit breathless as he did just give birth and he’s feeling quite dazed, turning to kiss Soobin. 

“I know,” he says. Soobin smiles tiredly at him and nuzzles the side of his face, shaking his head. 

“There you are,” he says. “I should’ve known nothing would ever slow you down.”

“Gods, we’re parents,” he says. Soobin laughs softly and nuzzles his cheek. 

“That’s right,” he says. “We are.” 

They should’ve known that the love of the gods would only last so long. Not even a year after her birth (32 days to be exact), Yeonjun loses his daughter. He wakes in the middle of the night, a chill running down his spine and urging him to go to his children. He rushes there faster than he would’ve thought possible, his mind running rampant with the worries of a new parent. 

His blood runs cold at the sight of Soo-Jung beside her brother. Yeonjun shrieks loudly, the scent of his fear permeating the air. 

“Soobin!” he cries into the night. “Soobin, come quickly!” He tugs his nightgown down and lifts his daughter, bringing her to his chest and praying that she’ll feed. “Soobin!” 

Yeonjun hardly notices his husband rush into the room, a doctor in tow. His breathing is quick and erratic, his heartbeat going far too fast for him to follow. 

“No, no, no,” Soobin says breathlessly from beside him. He reaches for the baby, somehow having been dropped by Yeonjun, while his husband collapses beside him and begins to sob loudly into the night. Minjun wakes at the sound of his mother’s discomfort and begins to cry as well, their wailing replacing the once peaceful silence that filled the castle. Yeonjun instinctively picks him up and presses his son to his chest, as closely as possible as if to protect him from a death as spontaneous as his sister’s. He hears Soobin fall to his knees beside him and arms wrap around his shaking body, pulling him close and trying to muffle the sounds of his crying in his shoulder. 

Yeonjun doesn’t let Minjun out of his sight after that. He refuses to do anything without his son, bringing him to meetings and negotiations that are really no place for a newborn. Yeonjun has nightmares of his dead daughter, though, instead of Soo-Jung, it’s little Minjun whose body is cold and limp beside his own. He always wakes up crying and Soobin will comfort him as he holds Minjun close to him, tears pouring endlessly down his cheeks. 

But, much to Yeonjun’s relief, Minjun grows from an infant to a toddler. He’s like Soobin, composed and quiet. Yeonjun is rather relieved by it. Minjun is content to cling to his mother’s skirts or his pants, depending on how he dresses. He enjoys playing with his parents’ jewelry, always touching their earrings or necklaces or crowns whenever he’s held. Byeol and Sarang love playing with their cousin, though Beomgyu and Taehyun both warn them to be extra careful because of how their Uncle Yeonjun worries for his son. Yoongi and Jimin’s single daughter, Chaeyoung, gets along well with them. She’s much more active than Minjun, though she gets along well with him. When Minjun and Chaeyoung are four, Taehyung and Jeongguk conceive. Their son, Seungjun, is just as hyper and excited as his parents, laughing and giggling loudly at everything and anything. Then comes Bora, Hueningkai’s and Hoseok’s daughter, a little ray of sunshine just as her parents. That same year, Yeonjun and Soobin conceive again, Beomgyu and Taehyun following. Two years later, Yoongi and Jimin have twins. And then, finally, Yeonjun has his fourth child. Without Soo-Jung, he has all boys and he swears that he’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. 

Little does he know that such a devotion will be his downfall. 


	2. Spring Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In April, the first victims of the plague begin appearing. As do the nightmares.

Yeonjun sighs softly, shivering as a stubborn winter breeze blows by. He closes his eyes and cups his hands around a small flower bud, releasing a gentle puff of air. When he opens his eyes, a large white lily is blooming, stark against the frosty green backdrop of its brethren. Yeonjun runs his fingers over the petals, watching them carefully as he adjusts his cloak to better shield him from winter’s fading chill. He sits back and smiles at the flower, the tension in his shoulders slowly draining away. 

“Eomma!” 

Yeonjun turns and smiles at his son, standing to welcome Jihwan into his arms. 

“Hwan-ah,” he says, ruffling the boy’s hair. He looks up and grins at his father, proudly displaying his missing tooth. He looks more like Soobin than Yeonjun, though he has the same eyes as his mother. His hair, just as his brothers’, has a bluish tint from Yeonjun, though they have yet to discover if it has any magical abilities. 

“Eomma, come read to us!” Jihwan whines, tugging on his mother’s wrist. Yeonjun laughs and follows, shaking his head. A servant takes his cloak when he arrives inside and then Yeonjun notices how Jihwan is missing one, scolding him and picking him up, nuzzling his cheek. 

“Yah, you need a cloak!” he says playfully. Jihwan hits him and whines about not being a little kid anymore, demanding to be put down. Yeonjun laughs and obeys, allowing his son to lead him to the library. Minjunhas Chan-Young in his lap and he’s playing with him, laughing at the little boy’s antics. Sarang and Byeol are with him, though instead appear as two wolves lying near the fireplace, flicking their ears whenever a child grabs onto them. Chaeyoung is reading on her own while Seungjun works on some sort of embroidery. Bora has a toy horse carved of marble with little jewel-eyes while Areum sleeps beside her sisters. Eun-Ji and Hae-Seong are play fighting, even making their own sound effects. 

“Are any of your uncles here?” Yeonjun says as he gets inside. Minjun looks up and smiles at him while Chan-young squeals happily and clambers into his lap. 

“Eomma, Eomma,” he babbles, drawing a laugh from Yeonjun. Sarang looks up at her uncle and then puts her head back down, sighing softly. Byeol shifts and adjusts her skirts, shaking her head. 

“No,” she says. “Uncle Hoseok was, though he had to go do something. What was it again?” 

“Haven’t a clue,” Minjun says. Yeonjun laughs and ruffles his son’s hair, earning an annoyed “Eommaa” from the boy. 

“What about Appa?” he says to Chan-Young. “Have you seen Appa?” 

“He’s out with Uncle Koo!” Chan-Young says proudly. Yeonjun hums and nods, thanking his son for the information. He sits back in the chair and sighs, smiling proudly at his children and nieces and nephews. They’ve always gotten along fairly well with each other, lest for a few squabbles here and there that were solved pretty quickly. 

“Where’s Beomgyu?” he says. 

“He and Appa went out hunting,” Byeol says. She shivers and hugs herself. “It’s too cold for that.” 

“Oh, you can turn into a wolf, you’re  _ fine _ ,” Minjun says, scoffing. Byeol rolls her eyes at him and sits back, resting her weight on her arms. 

“Don’t talk. You don’t know what it’s like, do you?” 

“Oh, don’t argue, you two,” Yeonjun says. Minjun and Byeol both immediately start defending their banter, claiming that it’s all friendly and that Yeonjun doesn’t need to get like that because they never  _ actually _ argue, oh, no, it’s always Sarang and Minjun. This, of course, draws the attention of the older girl and she sits up, growling at her sister and cousin. Yeonjun sighs and sits back, smiling fondly at his family. 

“Your Imperial Majesty, come quickly!” a servant says as she rushes in. Yeonjun stands, his fond smile shifting into a serious expression. 

“Minjun, come with me,” he says. He trusts Sarang and Byeol to look after the rest of the children and his son rises, looking worriedly at him. They follow the servant through the marble corridors, a nervous energy running through all three of them. Yeonjun grabs his son’s hand and squeezes hard, offering a smile he hopes is comforting. Minjun smiles back though Yeonjun can tell he isn’t at all soothed. 

They reach the infirmary and Yeonjun frowns. Soobin is already there, standing beside Hueningkai. The younger man’s long, brown hair is tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, though it still reaches his mid-back. They turn to face Yeonjun and Minjun when they hear the door open, both wearing expressions of worry that make Yeonjun’s stomach churn. Soobin’s fear or anxiety or both (which is the most likely) is better concealed, though there isn’t anyone to judge him. He’s just gotten used to hiding his emotions. 

“What is it?” Yeonjun says. 

“Come and see for yourself,” Soobin says grimly. Yeonjun and Minjun walk forward, eyes widening at the sight of the poor man in the bed. He’s wheezing desperately, a thick black essence eating away at him. His blood - or so Yeonjun thinks - is like ink coming from his nose, mouth, and ears, staining the sheets he lies on. His chest rattles with every breath he takes, his eyes fluttering. 

“What - what happened to him?” Minjun says meekly. Yeonjun puts a protective arm around his son and steps back with him. He will not lose another child. Not now, not ever. 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Hueningkai says. He turns to Soobin. “This isn’t the only case either, or so I’ve heard. I sent out messenger dragons to try and collect information from the rest of the empire, but I’ve yet to hear anything back. What’s your verdict?”

Soobin looks at Yeonjun and, for the first time in a while, he looks very genuinely scared. He hardly ever finds himself in situations where he’s totally clueless, and Soobin’s never liked not knowing what options he has. Yeonjun grabs his hand and squeezes it, trying to offer what comfort he can. 

“I think we should call a council meeting,” he says. Soobin nods. “Maybe you can check your visions for something and we can ask Hoseok-Hyung to ask Adonis if they know anything about it.” 

“Hyung,” Hueningkai says, “do - do you still have any of the flowers?” 

“Flowers?” Yeonjun says, frowning. Both men ignore him. 

“They’re in the basement,” Soobin says. He turns to Yeonjun and Minjun. “I have to show you something, all right? Huening, call a meeting and make sure that Beomgyu and Taehyun come back. Send Byeol or Sarang out if the need arises.”

Hueningkai nods, the Imperial family walking out. Minjun clutches his mother’s hand in a way that makes Yeonjun think of when he was a little boy, still used to having his every move watched by Yeonjun. He rubs the top of his hand with his thumb, something that’s always soothed him. 

“Appa,” Minjun says, “is everything going to be okay?” 

Soobin turns around. His face is unsure and Yeonjun wishes to pull them both to his chest and shield his husband and son from all of the world’s troubles. Minjun, however, is no longer a little boy and he must still prepare to someday take the throne. They can’t keep sugarcoating everything for him.

“I don’t - I don’t know,” Soobin says. Minjun’s eyes are wide, fear filling them slowly and Yeonjun reaches out for his son. 

“It - it’s going-”

“Okay,” Minjun says. He squares his shoulder, tugs at his skirts, and adjusts the clips in his hair. “Okay, then - then I want to help. I want to help you guys.” 

Soobin smiles at his son, his eyes softening at the picture of boyish innocence before him. Yeonjun forces himself not to cry as he smiles as well, grabbing his son’s hand and squeezing. 

“Well then, shall we get going?” he says, trying to sound playful. Minjun grins at him, a wave of relief and longing swallowing Yeonjun up as they continue to walk to the basement. 

“What is it?” Jeongguk says when they run into the man. He’s pulling his hair back, long strands falling between his fingers. “You called a council?” 

Soobin nods grimly. 

“Some sort of - I can’t be sure, though it looks like a type of infection. Make sure everything’s in order for when we arrive, yes?” 

Jeongguk nods, patting him on the shoulder. Soobin smiles weakly at him and then they keep walking, moving around the other man. As they travel deeper into the palace, the marble fades into cold stone blocks, windows becoming sparse in numbers. Soobin stops at an old wooden door and pulls a key out from his pocket, unlocking it carefully. 

“Appa, don’t we need lights?” Minjun says, looking down the dark, cavernous stairwell. Soobin nods. 

“Could you get me one of the torches, love?” he says to Yeonjun. Yeonjun hums and grabs one of the things from the wall, handing it to Soobin. Then, they travel single-file down the spiral staircase, Yeonjun and Minjun holding their skirts while Soobin tries to maneuver around his cloak. It’s quite cold, the temperature dropping the deeper they get. 

Finally, after what seems like hours of walking, the stairs stop. Soobin holds the light out and Yeonjun gasps, covering his mouth as he stares at the flowers. 

He’s seen violets before, but none such as these; they’d be beautiful if not for the black essence that eats away at them, similar to whatever had infected that poor boy back in the infirmary. Instinctively, Yeonjun puts an arm in front of Minjun, barring him from getting any closer. 

“Eomma, it’s okay,” he says, trying to soothe the older Omega. Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“Just - just stay back, all right?” he says. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“It’s best if none of us get any closer,” Soobin says, nodding his head. “I don’t know if it’s more partial to younger or older people.”

Yeonjun swallows hard, staring at the decaying flowers. With his free hand, he reaches out and grabs Soobin by the wrist, tugging him back. 

“How do you suppose we’ll show the council?” he says. Soobin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of dragon-skin gloves. 

“Go stand on the stairs,” he says. Yeonjun herds Minjun over and stands in front of him, watching the flowers warily. Soobin walks over to a potted plant and lifts it carefully, getting a glass covering. They go up the stairs and Yeonjun looks constantly over his shoulder to check on his husband, worry filling him until he’s overflowing with it. He just hopes it doesn’t affect his son or husband. 

_ Oh, Gods, what are we going to tell the rest of the kids? _ he thinks as they walk toward the meeting room. He chews on his lower lip, thinking about Jihwan and Chan-Young. Both of them are far too young to know about this stuff, though it’ll be hard for them to avoid it if it gets worse. He knows a lot of the children are old enough to hear about it and to be notified of this new, strange disease or infection, whatever it may be, though there are some whom Yeonjun simply wants to wrap in blankets and hide in the nursery forever. 

(Okay, fine, he’ll admit it: he wants to do that to all of the children living in his palace, though he knows that’s out of the question; he’ll take what he can get, all right?)

“Your Imperial Majesties,” Jeongguk says when they arrive. Yeonjun takes his place on Soobin’s left while Minjun sits to his right, where Soo-Jung would be if she was still alive. 

Yeonjun bites the inside of his cheek for the thought. It’s been fifteen years since he lost his daughter; crying about it doesn’t help anyone, especially not the girl herself. 

“Your Imperial Majesty,” someone says and Soobin remains calm, staring blankly at the flowers before him. The voices clamor over each other in hopes of being noticed by their emperor, though Soobin remains quite indifferent to the court. Finally, they seem to quiet down. 

“How is the man in the infirmary?” Soobin says, turning to Hueningkai. The man fiddles with his ponytail, long strands sliding through his fingers as he chews on his lower lip. 

“His condition is more or less the same,” he says, smiling at Hoseok when he squeezes his hand. It’s nervous, though, and Yeonjun begins to wonder what exactly they’re up against. 

“Have you received any word from the kingdoms?” Yeonjun says. Hueningkai shakes his head. 

“Taehyun, Beomgyu, did either of you see anything suspicious?” Soobin says. Both of them shake their heads and Soobin begins to look more agitated. Yeonjun reaches for his hand and tries to comfort him silently. 

The council goes on like that for a decent amount of time, though they have very little information to find much out about this new disease or infection. All in all, the council is rather useless to their cause, though Yeonjun can’t see any reason why it was bad that they tried; this is something that no one’s ever seen before, of course they’re going to try and find some sort of informant or something related to it. 

Yeonjun sighs, rubbing his temples. His crown sits nearby, gold catching on the lights around them. Soobin is sitting nearby, writing things down and mumbling under his breath. Minjun left to be with his cousins, siblings, and friends, though only after much encouragement and nagging from both of his parents. Now, said parents sit together in their shared study, both working quietly and trying to figure out what’s going on in their empire. 

“I found some records on plagues,” a voice says. Yeonjun and Soobin both look up as Yoongi enters, a tired expression decorating his face. He sets the books down and runs a hand through his hair, the ebony locks intertwined with a few fine streaks of white. 

“Oh, thank you,” Yeonjun says. He beckons Soobin over and they look over it, though it’s a bit long. In the earlier days of the empire, there were actually a lot of outbreaks, though they’ve discovered how to fight it and cases have dropped dramatically. 

“It’s going to take you at least a few hours to look through all of it,” Yoongi says as he looks over their shoulders. Yeonjun hums, his hand finding Soobin’s. He laces their fingers together and rubs the golden band signifying their union. 

“How long until dinner, then?” Soobin says. Yoongi shrugs. 

“An hour, and even that’s a stretch,” he says. Yeonjun hums, chewing on his lower lip as he goes down the list. 

“Hey, you two,” Yoongi says softly, drawing both of them to look at him. He offers a soft though wry smile. “You can’t always solve everything right away, okay? The rebellion took  _ years _ .” 

The words  _ ‘and the death of someone very dear to all of us’ _ hang in the air, heavy with emotion and tension. But no one brings them up as Yeonjun nods, nudging Soobin to get him to do the same. 

“We know, Hyung,” Yeonjun says. Yoongi snorts and shakes his head. 

“Just because you’ve been ruling for more than a decade, doesn’t mean you can’t learn something new every now and then,” he says. Yeonjun laughs. 

“And just because you’re in your forties doesn’t mean you can act like you’re some wise old sage,” he says. Yoongi throws his back as his laughter rolls out of him, filling the air and thankfully breaking some of the room’s tense atmosphere. Yeonjun and Soobin laugh with him and it feels nice. Running an empire is far from a piece of cake - quite the opposite, really, is Yeonjun’s being honest. No matter how kind and venerable of a leader you and your partner may be, there are still plenty of problems for you to deal with, especially if you’re replacing a corrupt government. But Yeonjun likes to think that he and Soobin have done a pretty good job when it comes to being good rulers and keeping their people happy, as they haven’t had many complaints and, from what Yeonjun’s seen, all of the people living in Ifan seem pretty happy with how things are going. 

“We should go to dinner,” Soobin says then, startling Yeonjun out of his thoughts. He hums and turns to look out the window, noting the setting sun as he rises from his seat and runs a hand through his hair. He grabs his crown and places it on top of his head, Soobin laughing at him when he does. Yeonjun flicks his forehead and then links arms with his husband, leaning his head on his shoulder. 

“Do you think we should tell the kids?” he says as they walk. Soobin, at first, doesn’t say anything and Yeonjun wonders if he heard him. 

“Nothing yet,” he says just before Yeonjun goes to repeat the question. “I don’t - I don’t think we know enough and, for all we know, this could be the only instance.”

“Let’s hope for such,” Yeonjun says, though they both know the likelihood of that happening is so low that it’s almost comical that he would say such a thing. 

“How do you think we should deal with this, though, when it gets worse?” Soobin says. 

“Well, that depends, doesn’t it?” Yeonjun shrugs. “I suppose - well, if it’s contagious, then we should have some sort of quarantine, though, before it gets too terrible but only after we have more information about whatever this is, I think that - I think we should send messages out to the surrounding territories to see if they’re experiencing it as well.” 

Soobin nods. 

“I agree,” he says. He smiles at him, kissing him softly. “Gods, what would I do without you?” 

“Hardly anything it seems,” Yeonjun says. Soobin laughs and shakes his head, the sound reverberating off of the walls of the corridor. 

They reach the dining hall not long after that. Yeonjun no longer gets lost in his own castle, thankfully, though they are late to dinner nonetheless. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Yeonjun says as he takes his seat. Jihwan whines and groans, embarrassed, while Soobin coos at Chan-Young. Minjun looks worriedly at his parents and Yeonjun offers him a kind smile, hoping to soothe his son from where he sits. The food is already out and they serve themselves, chatter filling the hall. 

Once all of the younger children are gone (Seungjun, Bora, Jihwan, Areum, Eunji, Hae-Seong, and Chan-Young), the remaining people at the table begin to discuss. Yeonjun knows everyone was at the council earlier, so there isn’t much explaining they have to do. 

“Uncle Soobin, Uncle Yeonjun, what . . . what are we going to do?” Byeol says. Yeonjun stares at her, then his husband. She and her twin sister are the same age as Hueningkai was when the rebellion really started. 

“Yeonjun has a plan,” Soobin says, gesturing to him. All heads turn to him and Yeonjun fiddles under their gazes. 

“I think . . . I think that we should wait until we have more information on what this is,” he says. “Then, if need be, we should call a mass quarantine. But we should also think about sending messages to the surrounding kingdoms and territories to see if they’re experiencing anything similar. Just in case.”

Those around the table nod, Soobin smiling at him. They continue to talk for a bit longer, discussing strategies for encouraging the people to stay inside and how they can best search for a cure. Minjun actually brings up the barracks and how such areas will be rather problematic. Chae-Young says they could do more cleanings while upping the pay of the servants. Beomgyu talks a bit about how it should be kept in mind that people will need money to restart their lives and that things like taxes should be lowered. Soobin writes these things down and Yeonjun feels so proud of his husband and son as he watches. He adds his own commentary and offers suggestions when he has them, though they don’t exactly do well when it comes to finding out what could possibly have happened to the boy back in the infirmary. The mention of him has Hueningkai rising from his seat and bidding them all goodnight, saying that he should go check on. Hoseok watches him wistfully before following and, just like that, they all slowly trickle out of the room. 

“I’m going to tuck the kids in,” Yeonjun says as Soobin heads to their chambers. Soobin nods and kisses him. 

“All right,” he says. “Tell them Appa says he loves them.”

Yeonjun laughs and squeezes his hand. 

“You tell them,” he says. Soobin laughs back as Yeonjun leads him down the halls, idle chatter passing between them. They quiet down, though, as they get closer to the children’s rooms, stopping at Minjun’s door. 

“Minjun-ah?” Yeonjun says, gently rapping his knuckles against the wood. “May we come in?” 

“Yes!” Minjun says. Yeonjun gently pushes the door open and smiles at his son. He’s combing his hair, already dressed for bed. 

“You need anyone to tuck you in?” Yeonjun teases. Minjun laughs at him, shaking his head. 

“Why not?” he says. He puts the comb down and gets up, walking over to the bed and climbing under the covers. He grins at his parents, nearly entirely covered by all of the blankets and pillows surrounding him. Yeonjun and Soobin both join him, kicking their shoes off to lie around their son. 

“Things are gonna be okay, right?” Minjun says softly. Yeonjun and Soobin look at each other. 

“We don’t know,” Soobin finally says. “But - we - we’re trying. We’re going to try, okay?” 

“Eomma?” Minjun says, looking up at him. Yeonjun smiles down at his son. 

“Things - whatever happens, we’re going to make it out, all right?” he says. He ruffles his hair playfully. “We just have to be optimistic, yeah?” 

“Gods, you’re so weird,” Minjun says. Soobin and Yeonjun laugh. 

“That explains a lot about you,” he says. Minjun hits him while Soobin laughs at the two of them, leaning down to kiss his son on the forehead. Minjun makes a big show of it, crying and kicking his feet and whining. Yeonjun tells him he’s acting like a little kid while Soobin gets up, stretching. Minjun calls them old and then bids them goodnight, laughing at his parents as they go. 

“Love you!” Minjun yells from his bed. Yeonjun laughs, looking over his shoulder and smiling softly. 

“We love you too,” he says. Minjun smiles at them, his eyes drooping already. Soobin parrots his husband’s words while said husband blows his son a kiss, waving as he closes the door. 

“Oh, I hope we didn’t wake anyone up,” Yeonjun says as they walk toward Jihwan’s and Chan-Young’s rooms. Soobin snorts. 

“Of course we did,” he says. “What, no one here is deaf. Let’s just hope no one’s parents get angry.” 

Yeonjun chuckles, gently knocking on Jihwan’s door. 

“Appa! Eomma!” a cheery voice says from inside. Yeonjun grins as he pushes the door open, his son sitting up in bed. 

“Well, look at you, so grown up and going to bed on your own,” he teases. Soobin nudges him. 

“Oh, don’t tease him,” he says. Jihwan releases a little, “Yeah!” from his bed. “He’s awfully mature, don’t you think?” 

Yeonjun laughs, going to sit on the bed. He begins combing his fingers through his son’s hair, tugging at the knots. His hair is a bit more blue than his brothers’, and he seems to have taken after Yeonjun with his physical appearance. He has the same pouty lips and nose, though Soobin’s dimples are bright on his cheeks. Minjun seems to be most like his father, from his looks to his personality, while many have told them that Chan-Young is more of a mix. 

“I suppose,” he says. He clicks his tongue as his hand gets caught in Jihwan’s hair. “However, you need to comb your hair better.”

“Areum did it,” Jihwan grumbles, crossing his arms. “Blame her, not me.” 

Yeonjun laughs. 

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I do your hair,” he says. Jihwan sticks his tongue out. 

“Appa’s the one who does my hair, not you. Or Uncle Taehyung, or Uncle Jimin. But it certainly isn’t you, that’s for sure,” he says. Soobin laughs as Yeonjun gasps dramatically, crying out and pretending to be offended. Jihwan whines at him, saying that he’s too old for that. Yeonjun laughs but he stops, smiling at his son and husband. Soobin’s always had some special relationship with Jihwan, though Yeonjun can’t say he’s jealous; despite their differences, they seem to understand each other a lot more than Yeonjun does with him. It makes him happy, though, to see his son and husband getting along so well. Soobin, all three times he was pregnant, was very worried about whether or not his kids would like him, so it’s good to see his worries soothed. 

“Now go say ‘night to Channie,” Jihwan says, yawning. “He’s gonna need it, he’s such a baby.” 

Yeonjun laughs, kissing his forehead. 

“All right,” he says. “I love you.” 

“Love you too, Eomma,” Jihwan says. 

“Love you, Hwan-ah,” Soobin says. Jihwan giggles. 

“Love you, Appa,” he says as his parents walk out. 

Next, they go to see Chan-Young. The little boy greets them happily and has them sing him a lullaby together, whining for more even after it ends. They compromise and he ends up receiving a bedtime story instead of an encore, smiling sleepily when they’re finished. 

“Love you!” he calls from the bed. Yeonjun and Soobin both laugh. 

“We love you too, Chan-ah,” Soobin says. Chan-Young waves at them as they go, the door closing with a soft click. 

“I’m scared,” is the first thing out of Soobin’s mouth the moment they reach their bedroom. Yeonjun clicks his tongue, reaching up to cup his face. 

“It’ll be fine,” he says, even though they both know that Soobin’s the one who can see the future and if he’s scared . . . well, that’s not exactly good.

“Gods, I really hope so,” he says. He sits down on the bed and puts his head in his hands, hunching over. Yeonjun walks over and sits beside him, leaning his head on his shoulder. 

“You know, you’re not always going to have the answers,” he says. Soobin sits up and stares at him, tears already streaking down his cheeks. He’s aged with the past few years - the fat from his cheeks has somewhat disappeared, his hair has the tiniest strands of white, his jaw is a bit sharper, but he’s still Soobin. Yeonjun knows the man before him as well as the back of his hand; he could map his body out with his eyes closed, name each scar and its story. 

And he knows very well that Soobin does not like being clueless. His one power - the one thing that he’s convinced himself is what makes him worthy - is his ability to look into the future. And, well, not having that is terrifying to him. 

“I just - I swear nothing will happen to you or the children,” Soobin says. He always says it when he gets scared, when he feels as if he can’t control the situation. He did it the night of their wedding, after Minjun and Soo-Jung were born, after all of their children were born. Yeonjun thinks it’s something that he does to soothe himself, a promise and a constant reminder. He’s done quite well so far - this is just another obstacle he’ll overcome, is it not?

“I know,” Yeonjun says. He gets up, stretching. “Why don’t you get ready for bed, hm? It’s late and we’ll be quite busy.” 

Soobin laughs as he gets up, wrapping his arms around his waist and sighing. Yeonjun waddles over to the bathroom, stubborn as ever in doing things despite his husband pretending to be a hindrance.

They get ready for bed and then fall into the blankets together, laughing. Yeonjun climbs over to press himself as close as he can to his husband, ever the cuddle bug. Soobin kisses him when he finishes squirming, lips pressing softly against his own. The bed is warm, the blankets heavy over their tangled bodies. Yeonjun holds Soobin’s hand, smiling through lidded eyes at his husband. Soobin kisses the top of his hand, smiling back. 

“I love you,” he whispers, the same way he used to when they were young and still exploring the love they shared, curious about all of the little nooks and crannies making it into what it is. Here’s not to say Yeonjun doesn’t discover new things every day - he certainly does, it’s just - he feels as if he and Soobin know each other more intimately and they’re better at seeing the patterns. 

“I love you too,” Soobin whispers. Yeonjun kisses him once, though Soobin decides that isn’t enough and leans in for another. They make out lazily in bed, allowing time to slowly drag itself along. It isn’t until Soobin finally brings up that they have to sleep if they want to actually help tomorrow. Yeonjun laughs and kisses him one last time before closing his eyes, drawing a laugh from the other man. Soobin pulls him close and nuzzles him and it isn’t long before they’ve both fallen asleep. 

That night is the first time the dreams start coming. Yeonjun opens his eyes, finding himself seated in a wooden chair. He looks around, his heart pounding. His head feels heavy and something’s sliding down his temples. He tries to reach up to touch it and wipe it away but, when he looks down, Yeonjun notices his wrists are held down by some sort of vines. He shifts in place, tiredly shaking his head. He’s dazed, his thoughts scattered. Yeonjun looks around, frowning. He’s sitting in a field of either violets or pansies, some of them climbing up his chair. He shifts again, trying to figure out where he is. All around him is darkness, the only exception being a beam of bright light that surrounds him. His feet are bare, though they’re sitting in a pool of what looks like melted marble, though the accents are varying shades of purple instead of black or gray. Yeonjun frowns, once again tugging at the vines anchoring him to his seat. There are thorns and they cut into his skin, scarlet rivulets flowing from them in retaliation. 

“Where am I?” he tries to say, though the words don’t come out. He can feel his lips moving and the vibrations of his throat when he tries to speak, but nothing comes out. Yeonjun looks around, his heart pounding as his fear begins to awaken, surrounding him slowly. He thrashes in place as the vines begin to grow at an alarming rate, climbing toward him. Thorns cut into his wrists, his ankles, and then, finally, his neck, though the blood that spurts isn’t the normal red; instead, Yeonjun watches in horror as violet spills from his wounds, sliding down his neck and staining his clothes. The droplets leave dark, lilac streaks in their wake, though Yeonjun stops caring about the abnormal color of his blood when he feels the vines around his throat tightening. He gasps desperately, gaping mouth begging for air. He manages to free his hands enough to claw at the vines, though the only repayment he receives is bloodied fingertips as pain spikes up from them and to his hands. Yeonjun thrashes like a fish dumped on the deck of a ship, begging for freedom as his head grows light and his eyes begin to droop. His movements become more sluggish with each passing second until he finally falls unconscious. 

Yeonjun wakes covered in cold sweat. He reaches for his throat, gingerly pressing his fingers to the skin. It’s unmarred, not even the barest hints of his dream left. 

“Gods,” he whispers, pressing his face into his hands as the tears slide down his cheeks. He can very nearly hear his heart beating, loud as it throws itself against his ribcage. One, two, three, one, two, three. 

Yeonjun uncurls himself, forcing his attention to his sleeping husband. Soobin is peaceful like this, the creases in his brow and tensed muscles of his face having been erased by sleep. His insomnia has gotten better as has Yeonjun’s, though there are still nights that are filled with both of them tossing and turning since they’re both light sleepers. Ever since Soo-Jung, Yeonjun hasn’t ever slept easily. 

He sighs, letting his head fall back onto the cushions. He closes his eyes and thanks the gods that at least Soobin’s asleep. He shakes his head, slowly sinking into the mattress and trying to soothe himself.

_ It was only a dream, _ he thinks.  _ Only a dream. _

He surprises himself how he still manages to fall asleep after his nightmare. He’s roused by Soobin, a soft smile on his face as the sun shines into the room. Yeonjun sits up and stretches, shaking his head. Soobin laughs at him as he gets out of bed, mumbling something about going to the bathroom. Yeonjun hums an answer, sliding his feet into his slippers and padding after his husband. Soobin takes a bath while Yeonjun brushes his teeth, then they switch. Yeonjun hears the servants coming in to help them get dressed as he dries himself off, leaning against Soobin. His Alpha laughs and kisses his shoulder, earning himself a slap from the towel. 

“We’re going to be late,” he says. Soobin laughs and kisses the place where his neck meets his right shoulder, rocking them back and forth. 

“Aren’t we always, though?” he says. Yeonjun hits his arm and shoos him out of the bathroom, Soobin’s laughter following him as he leaves. 

Once he’s gone, Yeonjun sighs softly and dries his hair. The blue strands are darkened by the water, curly and wet under the towel. He sighs yet again and shakes his head, slowly letting the towel fall away from his body. His stomach is soft, pudgy in a way that he likes to say he’s used to. Having four children will do that; they stretch out your stomach and leave you with extra skin and fat. He’s chubby around here and his chest is heavier than it was before he had kids, still plumped with the fat for the pups’ milk. He frowns at himself, turning around and looking at the stretch marks that litter his body. His hips have grown wider, pushed into their current shape by his four children. And here’s not to say that Yeonjun doesn’t like having kids; he loves them more than anything in the world, wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

He just struggles sometimes, okay?

“Hey,” a soft voice says from behind him. Yeonjun scrambles to pick up the towel, wrapping it around himself and turning around to face Soobin. He’s wearing his shirt and pants, a few rings and a necklace with a small vial. Inside, two locks of Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s hair are intertwined, a gentle reminder of them. He has an earring made of Soo-Jung’s nightgown and Yeonjun has the other one. He’s thankful for his multiple piercings so he can always wear it. 

“Go and get ready,” Yeonjun says. Soobin hums, hugging him and resting his chin on his shoulder. 

“You’re going to make us later anyway,” he says. Yeonjun huffs and turns around, staring at his husband. 

“That’s mean,” he pouts. Soobin laughs and leans down to kiss him. 

“Oh, I’m sure that it’s not nearly as bad as what’s going on in here,” he says, voice softening near the end of the sentence as he gently taps the side of Yeonjun’s head. The older man looks away. 

“It’s - it’s fine,” he says. Soobin snorts. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Your mind, body, and soul - all of it is. And, even if you don’t think so, it still works, does it not? You’re perfectly healthy and you can do nearly all of the things you used to. Your body works, yes? It gets you places, it made those beautiful children we have, it fought in a damn  _ war _ , Yeonjun. Anyone who gives you shit about how you look can go die in a ditch, they aren’t worth it, okay? Don’t give them the satisfaction.” 

Yeonjun stares at his husband, then he reaches out and cups his face, running his thumb over his cheekbone. 

“Aww,” he coos, “gettin’ all sappy on me now, are we?” he says. 

Soobin laughs. 

“We’ve been together for seventeen years,” he says. “Dated for two, married for fifteen. Don’t complain about sappiness  _ now. _ ” 

“Gods, we’re old, aren’t we?” he says. Soobin laughs and kisses him. 

“Now I know where Minjun got it from,” Soobin says, laughing. Yeonjun shoves him.

“Meanie,” he says. Soobin waves over his shoulder as he walks out, leaving Yeonjun to his own devices. He hardly takes a second, though, before going out to join. He picks out a suit for today, pulling his pants on and buttoning his shirt. He sits still while his makeup is done, putting his jewelry in on his own. Soobin laughs as he holds his arm out for him, Yeonjun rolling his eyes as he takes it and they walk down the hall to breakfast. 

And a much bigger mess than they could have ever imagined. 


	3. Feeling Feverish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The symptoms are listed, though a cure and a source are still yet to be discovered.

The moment they both sit down, they’re bombarded with messages. Scrolls are served instead of food, the Imperial couple staring wide-eyed at the letters. 

“They’re from the kingdoms,” Hueningkai says grimly. Yeonjun gawks as he picks up one of the letters, flattening it out and scanning the names. Some have lists of symptoms - or so Yeonjun thinks - though it frustrates Yeonjun that not all of them are the same. Then again, whatever this infection or disease is could be affected by other outside conditions. 

“Call a council,” Soobin says immediately. “Make sure to send summonings to all of the doctors that have responded; we have to make a list of symptoms and possible cures as soon as possible.” 

Hueningkai nods, bowing a little before he dashes off. The children sitting at the table have definitely made note of the sudden commotion, though no one seems to be able to explain it; they’re all too worried about this new opponent they’re facing. 

“Where could it have come from?” Yeonjun murmurs as he looks over the scrolls. Soobin shrugs and begins to eat his breakfast, Yeonjun following suit. They talk over breakfast, discussing the letters and trying to find connections between them. 

“Gods, this is awful,” Hoseok murmurs. Bora cranes her neck to look over his shoulder and he lets her, too engrossed in the letter before him. He receives multiple sounds of agreement from the rest of the people at the table, though none of them are too focused on their conversation. 

“It’s time,” Hueningkai says, bursting through the door. Soobin and Yeonjun are the first to stand up and they’re already walking out of the dining hall as Beomgyu urges the younger children to go and play. Areum, Minjun, Sarang, and Byeol will all come to the meeting with their parents and uncles. 

“Eomma,” Minjun says softly as they walk, “what’s going on?” 

Yeonjun forces a smile onto his face as he squeezes his son’s hand. 

“We’re trying to figure out what’s going on,” he says. “Everything’s going to be okay, though. I promise. But we want all of you to learn what this is like, yes?” 

Minjun nods. Yeonjun smiles genuinely at him and they keep walking. 

When they arrive in the council room, the place is a mess. Advisors clamor over each other, demanding attention as well as the doctors. Flickering images of the letters’ senders also fill the place, making it even more cacophanous than usual. Yeonjun rubs his temples and he notices several other people doing the same thing, though he can’t say he’s surprised. All of the children make their annoyance clear, so that, Yeonjun supposes, is pretty funny. 

“All right, all right!” Soobin says, standing up and holding his arms out. He glares around the room. “All of you, quiet!” 

Thank the gods that they obey. Soobin sits back down, sighing heavily and shaking his head. 

“Begin, one at a time, though,” Yeonjun says, eyes darting to Soobin when he snorts into his hand. 

“Huening, will you start?” Soobin says. Hueningkai shifts in place, looking around the room. 

“Well, then,” he says, “I suppose we should address the dragon in the room.” He sucks in a deep breath. “We’re suffering from some sort of plague, it seems, and our numbers are . . .” he frowns, sifting through the papers before him “. . . rather high.” No one seems excited about that. 

“But I’m sure we’ll find something to somehow keep those from growing too much soon,” Yeonjun says. Hueningkai shoots him a grateful glance, turning back to the rest of the attendees. 

“Right, yes,” he says, nodding. “We need to start working on figuring out at least the symptoms so we can bring those people into medical custody before they can infect anyone else.” 

“Is it contagious?” someone says. Hueningkai looks to his fellow doctors for assistance, most of them nodding their heads. 

“Yes, it is,” one of them says. A hushed and fearful murmur passes through the group. Soobin frowns and sits up, watching everyone carefully as he prepares to call order back to the council. Thankfully, no one seems to stir anything up. 

“What’s our plan for keeping our numbers where they are?” someone says. 

“We need everyone to stay inside until further notice,” Soobin says immediately. “I want a list of the symptoms as soon as possible. Have we heard anything from Hanna-Noona and Dae-Jung-Hyung?” 

(Another thing about Soobin: he continues to use honorifics. He’s the damn  _ emperor _ and he still does that. Yeonjun just thinks it’s an admirable quality of his.)

“Not yet, Your Imperial Majesty,” one of the advisors says. Soobin clicks his tongue. 

“We should check on them,” Yeonjun says. “If they’re not responding - well, dragons are pretty fast, aren’t they? There must be something wrong with them.” 

“He’s right,” Jeongguk says, nodding. The war medals on his chest glitter under the lights of the room. He tugs on a strand of his ponytail. “Hanna-ssi and Dae-Jung-ssi are both extremely vigilant with communications. It’s . . . unsettling that they aren’t responding.”

Soobin nods, looking contemplative. He shoots Yeonjun a grateful glance, then drums his nails on the large wooden table. 

“Have we any idea where it could be coming from?” Yoongi says. He shifts, crossing his legs and leaning against Jimin. “Perhaps there’s a certain source we can stop?” 

“I’ve been trying to track it, though we need to narrow down the symptoms first so we can at least try and stop it before it gets bad,” Hueningkai says. He looks to Hoseok. “Has . . . has Adonis said anything about it?” 

Hoseok shifts in place, picking at his fingers. His relationship with Adonis is rather famous - Yeonjun can recall the many people who have come to them, begging for things such as prophecies or visions. Soobin has tried to help them as much as possible while explaining that Hoseok no longer hosts Adonis. Usually, it ends well, though there have been times where things have gotten . . . messy. 

“No,” he finally says. “They don’t talk to me often, if ever,” he says. Yeonjun finds it annoying; Hoseok has done so much for Adonis, only for the god to cast him aside the moment he said he didn’t want to host them. They came and blessed his pregnancy with Bora but he’s also infertile now, something that seems . . . rather suspicious in Yeonjun’s opinion. Neither of his brothers have had the same problem, though none of them have tried to have any more children other than Yoongi and Jimin, and that was years ago. But none of this came from Yeonjun because he’d really rather not get smited. 

“All right,” Soobin says, nodding. “We should sacrifice a few cows at the temples, especially for Fandaar. Make sure to leave something for Risauri as well since we’ll be passing through their territory.” 

Around them, people nod. They make their plan, then, deciding to leave for the Far Islands as soon as possible while Hueningkai and the other doctors will work on investigating this plague. Meanwhile, Jeongguk is going to start taking out groups of soldiers to bring supplies to families and warn them to start preparing for a huge mass quarantine of the empire. Taehyun and Beomgyu, as well as their daughters, will help to spread the word. They’re hoping to meet other shifters along the way so they can cover more ground. Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung will all get started on counting victims and logging them as well as writing letters to the surrounding territories and kingdoms. They’ll also be tasked with watching the children staying in the castle, though such a thing isn’t hard for any of them. 

“Is - is it really that serious?” Minjun says. “It - this feels a bit like it’s an overkill.” 

“Better safe than sorry, yes?” Yeonjun says. “Also, it’s good preparation for if it really does get truly as bad as we’re playing it up to be; that way, people will already be ready for it to hit.” He grimaces, stopping. “Or, well, as ready as they can be.”

Minjun blinks at him. 

“What do you think is going to happen?” he says. Yeonjun shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “In situations like this, you must do all you can and simply hope that it’s all for nothing.” 

“But wouldn’t it be a waste of time and supplies, then?” 

“Better safe than sorry, isn’t it?” Yeonjun says, tilting his head at his son. Minjun hums and shrugs. 

“I can’t say I disagree with that logic.” 

Yeonjun laughs, pulling him close and ruffling his hair. Minjun isn’t short, but both of his parents are still taller than him and Yeonjun plans to take advantage of this for as long as he can.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s go get breakfast.” 

Soobin and Yeonjun leave two days later. Their bags are packed to spend at most a week over on the Far Islands, and they go down to the port with their friends and family to say goodbye. Jihwan leaps up and hugs his mother as tightly as he can, making him promise to bring something back for him while Chan-Young demands that they come back as soon as possible. Minjun stands to the side, smiling softly. 

“Oh, cut the act,” Yeonjun says, opening his arms for his eldest son. Minjun rolls his eyes but he comes forward anyway, leaning into the older Omega’s embrace. 

“Eomma,” he says softly, his arms wrapped around his waist, “you’re so embarrassing.” 

Yeonjun laughs and kisses the top of his head, carding his fingers through indigo locks. 

“It’s part of my job,” he says. “The moment I had you, I was brought a contract saying that I would embarrass you as much as possible.” 

Minjun groans and pulls away, shaking his head. Yeonjun grins at him and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear, kissing his forehead. 

“I love you,” he says, pressing the words against his son’s skin. Minjun smiles up at him and kisses his cheek. 

“Love you too, Eomma,” he says. He pulls away, then, and goes to Soobin, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. Yeonjun says goodbye to his brother and friends, bidding his nieces and nephews (they all call him their uncle) goodbye before boarding the ship. Soobin laces their fingers together as they stand on the deck and wave goodbye to all of the people standing on the port, Chan-Young jumping to try and catch their attention. 

“They’ll be okay,” Soobin says softly, leaning in so he can whisper it. Yeonjun hums and remains in place until Ifan’s port fades into a brown blob. He sighs, then, and walks with Soobin to their room so he can throw up.

They arrive at the Far Islands and Yeonjun feels like throwing himself onto the ground and crying with relief. Soobin reminds him that they’re in public and he refrains from doing so, though he’s still awfully tempted as they walk through Ilsan. 

It’s like a sort of ghost town. The entire place is empty with all of the buildings locked tight to keep anyone and anything from getting in. Yeonjun frowns and feels Soobin reach for his hand. They traverse through the empty streets, walking until they reach Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s old house, where they plan to stay while in Ilsan. 

“Gods, it’s been so long since we were last here,” Yeonjun says softly. Soobin reaches into his pocket and pulls a key out, unlocking the door and pushing it open. It creaks from being left unused for so long, the sound squealy and unpleasant. Yeonjun’s shoulders stiffen and he scrunches his face up, shaking his head. They walk into the house together, looking around. It’s quite cold inside, a thin coating of dust covering everything. 

“I’ll get a fire started, can you bring the bags in?” Yeonjun says. Soobin nods and heads out while Yeonjun goes through the back. There’s a pile of firewood outside and he kicks it, trying to see if any of it is of use to them. It looks like someone came and put some new pieces of wood out for them, so that’s a relief. 

Sighing, Yeonjun picks up a few pieces of wood and goes to head back inside. 

_ Yeonjun _ . 

The man stops, his feet stuck to the ground. He hears a breeze rustle the tall, uncut grass of the yard shifting about in response. Yeonjun frowns, looking around. 

_ Yeonjun, get out of here. _

The wood falls with a clatter. 

_ Yeonjun, listen to me, _ the voice whispers. Yeonjun steps forward, his cloak dragging through the grass. The voice is one he hasn’t heard in more than a decade, his heart twisting at the thought of its owner. 

“Namjoon-Hyung . . . ?” he whispers. His voice shakes, fear slithering through him. “What-”

_ You aren’t safe here. You must leave as soon as possible, _ the voice - or Namjoon - whispers. 

“What?” 

“Yeonjun!” 

The man stops, turning around to look at his husband. Soobin grins at him and walks over. 

“Going spacey on me already?” he says. He bends over, picking the wood up. “Oh, come on, we aren’t  _ that _ old. Are you really letting Minjun’s words get to you?” 

Yeonjun laughs after a moment of silence.

“No, of course not,” he says. Soobin snorts as he walks inside. 

“Mm, maybe we should send you to the doctor, yes?” he says. Yeonjun punches his arm and Soobin cries out, faking a stumble. 

“You stupid idiot,” he says. “How do you rule a country when you act like you’re still a boy?” 

“‘Stupid idiot’ is a bit repetitive, don’t you think, Hyung?” Soobin says instead of answering the question. Yeonjun scoffs and shakes his head as they walk inside, tugging Soobin along. 

After they somewhat settle down in the house, they grab their cloaks and head out. Hanna and Dae-Jung live in Beomgyu’s and Taehyun’s old house, the place where Sarang and Byeol were born. It makes Yeonjun nostalgic as they walk through the still-empty streets, reminding him of the months spent here as they waited. He remembers how he and Soobin had spent their first winter together here, wandering around with the rest of their little pack as they’d awaited the birth Beomgyu’s and Taehyun’s children. Hueningkai and Hoseok had fallen in love here, and he knows that Namjoon and Seokjin first met on the port. He sighs, closing his eyes and leaning against his husband. 

“There are so many memories,” he murmurs. Soobin hums, leaning against him. 

“Do you remember when we danced out here for your first snow?” he says, pressing the words into his hair. Yeonjun laughs, the memory painting itself against his eyelids. 

“I do,” he says. He thinks he can still feel the ghosts of the snowflakes landing on his cheeks, fat and icy as they paint his skin. In the southern region of Ifan, snow is strangely uncommon compared to the Far Islands, though Risauri most likely influences the weather. Yeonjun doesn’t know. He just knows he’d seen snow for the first time out in Ilsan and he’d been so happy he’d cried. Soobin had danced with him and their feet had left prints in the snow, though they were gone in the morning. It had made Yeonjun feel a bit like their midnight traipse around the village was but a dream he’d shared with Soobin. 

“Do you think it’ll snow again?” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun shrugs. “I don’t know. It’ll be good for keeping people inside, though.” 

Soobin hums, swinging their interlocked hands between them as they walk. It isn’t long before they reach Hanna’s and Dae-Jung’s house, walking up the path and knocking on the door. 

“Soobin? Yeonjun?” Hanna says as she opens the door. She blinks at them, clearly surprised by their arrival. “When - when did you get here?”

“Yesterday,” Yeonjun says. He frowns. “Did you not get our message, Noona?” 

Hanna shakes her head. She looks around, frowns, before stepping aside. 

“You should come inside,” she says. “There’s a lot to explain.”

“How have you been?” Dae-Jung says as they sit. Yeonjun shrugs. 

“We’ve been . . . all right, I suppose,” Soobin says. “It - well, there’s some sort of-”

“-Plague?” Dae-Jung finishes. Soobin and Yeonjun both nod and the older man sighs, sitting back. 

“As you can tell,” he says, “we’ve been dealing with a lot of things. Or maybe not, I don’t know. But, before it hit you, we had a couple of outbreaks.”

“Could you describe it?” Yeonjun says. “Maybe the symptoms or-”

“You start out with a normal spring fever,” Hanna says as she sits down, setting a tray on the table. Soobin takes a cup and hands it to Yeonjun before getting his own. “Then, a week or so later, you begin getting a little feverish. None of it passes, though, and, soon enough, you’ll find it a little harder to breathe as it eats away at your lungs. And then come the headaches.” She shivers, shaking her head. “Gods, they’re awful. I’ve seen people slam their heads against stones to end the pain. It doesn’t get any better even if you survive - instead of relief, all you receive is a terrible cough and skin that crackles from how dry it is. It tears easily, and then, as if everything that’s already happened isn’t enough, it’ll feel as if you’re trying to breathe with a giant stone crushing your chest.” She puts her cup down and covers her eyes, rubbing her face with her hands. 

“Later,” Dae-Jung says, picking up where Hanna left off, “your skin will change color. And then your eyes become bloodshot - so much so that the whites are nearly pure red - and your tears will be the color of ink. A few days after that - if you haven’t yet killed yourself or had a doctor do it for you - you’ll begin to spit blood and phelgm or something. And by then you can’t even get in bed. We usually leave those people in their beds because it takes a day or two before they die as the body begins to decay.” He shivers and hugs himself. “It’s so contagious that we’ve simply foregone funerals and begun burning the bodies - as many as we can at a time. Today, we’re lucky. If you stay until tomorrow, though, you’ll see them doing it. It’s quite the spectacle.” 

Yeonjun and Soobin gape at the two Omegas.

“Do - do we know where it comes from, at least?” Yeonjun finally says. 

“We’ve been getting a lot of Aestrathian immigrants,” Hanna offers. “If it is from them, then they’ve certainly built up an immunity to it. None of them have gotten sick as far as we’re concerned.” 

Soobin frowns. 

“If that’s the case,” he says, “then we can’t do anything but turn them back. How bad is it so far?” 

“We have yet to figure out a cure, but we only get one or two a week,” Hanna says. “It’s just - well, we simply thought it would be best if everyone stayed inside and kept from going out.” 

Soobin nods. 

“Is it the same for the other islands?” Yeonjun says. He leans forward and crosses his legs, frowning. “Or has it only hit you here?” 

“We’ve gotten messages from the others that they’re putting up with it too,” Dae-Jung says. He sighs and rubs his face with his hands. “It’s stressful, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, tell me about it,” Yeonjun says, sitting back and leaning into his husband. He sighs, grabbing Soobin’s hand and playing with his rings. 

“Ah, I’m sure you’ll find out even more about it as time goes on,” Hanna says. Yeonjun hums, sighing. 

“Gods, I just hope we can find some sort of cure or vaccine soon,” he says. 

“Here’s hoping,” Soobin says. 

They don’t stay for very long after that. Their trip is cut short out of worry for the rest of Ifan, and it isn’t long before Yeonjun and Soobin are back in a carriage to get to the capital. Soobin has already written and sent a letter to the others, asking them to call another council. 

“Do you think the kids are okay?” Yeonjun says, simply because he can’t not think of his children when they’re apart. Soobin hums, squeezing his hand. 

“Of course,” he says. “Don’t you think we would’ve gotten some sort of notification if anything had happened to them? Besides, we’ve only been away for a few days. The likelihood of anything happening in that amount of time is . . . well, it’s quite low.” 

_ Soo-Jung died in a few hours, _ Yeonjun thinks but doesn’t say. He knows it’s no one’s fault that their daughter died; stuff like that, especially with very young children, happens. There’s nothing they could’ve done to stop it.

“You’re right,” Yeonjun says instead of voicing his thoughts. He smiles at Soobin. “They’re fine.” 

Thank the gods he’s right. They get back and are tackled by Chan-Young, Jihwan following him. Yeonjun and Soobin both laugh as they hold their children, smiling and rocking them about. 

“Where’s Minjun?” Soobin says. Chan-Young shrugs. 

“He’s coming,” Jihwan says. “He’s been helping Uncle Huening.” 

“Has he?” Soobin says. Yeonjun frowns. He doesn’t want Minjun near any of the infected, especially if it’s contagious. Call him ridiculous, but Yeonjun has always been rather paranoid about losing his children. 

(He knows very well that it’s because of Soo-Jung, though he’ll never admit it. But there’s a part of him, deep down inside, that constantly claims that Soo-Jung would still be alive if he’d been more vigilant. No matter how strange it sounds, he still seems to take it to heart.)

“Oh, dear, I don’t want him there,” he says without thinking. 

“Why not?” Chan-Young says curiously, clambering around. Yeonjun tenses. 

“It - well, it’s not safe,” he says. Jihwan frowns. 

“Why not?” he says, parroting his little brother’s words. Yeonjun flounders for words, looking to Soobin for help. 

“We’ll tell you later,” he says instead. Yeonjun supposes that works, but it’ll only be so long before one or both of them bring it up again. 

“You’re back?” 

Soobin and Yeonjun look up at their oldest son, his indigo hair swept back. Hueningkai looks frantic, thick brown curls trailing to his mid-back in their ponytail. 

“We had to cut the trip short,” Soobin says. Hueningkai stops running and puts his hands on his knees, panting loudly. 

“Gods, it’s absolute chaos in there!” he says after catching his breath. “You - we need you in there  _ now _ or else they’re going to start some sort of riot.” 

“What? The council? What’s going on?” Yeonjun says. 

“I don’t know,” Hueningkai says, shrugging. “However, I can guarantee that you two need to get in there right this instant if you want to make sure it’s all in one piece.” 

“Jihwan, Chan-Young, both of you stay here. Minjun, come with us,” Soobin says immediately. “Someone take our bags to our chambers, we’ll put everything away. Make sure the horses and carriage are tended to.” 

As they walk off, servants begin to appear to follow Soobin’s orders. Hueningkai leads the Imperial family through the corridors of the palace, stopping in front of the door to the council room. Already, Yeonjun can hear the cacophony inside. 

“After you,” the man says grimly, opening the door and stepping to the side. Soobin goes in first, followed by Yeonjun, then Minjun, with Hueningkai picking up the rear. Advisors and doctors alike argue loudly with each other, yelling overtaking the space. Soobin cuts easily through the crowd and Yeonjun squares his shoulders, standing at his full height and thinking thoughts of murder. He rests a hand on Minjun’s shoulder and guides his son to his seat, glowering at the attendees. 

“We leave for a few mere  _ days _ and then order is lost,” Soobin says venomously once he’s sitting. Already, everyone has quieted, their fear permeating the room’s atmosphere. Soobin sighs and shakes his head, massaging his temples. Yeonjun grits his teeth as he looks around the room, making a mental list of the guests. 

“Your Imperial Majesty, we-” 

“Hueningkai,” Soobin interrupts coldly, “have you found any sort of symptoms? Hanna-Noona and Dae-Jung-Hyung both told us a few things.” 

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” Hueningkai says. He looks around, frowning, then Hoseok hands him a few pieces of parchment. The man thanks his husband and begins flipping through them, adjusting his silver-framed spectacles on his nose. Hoseok leans over his shoulder and points at something, drawing a gentle laugh from Hueningkai when he finds it. 

“Ah, yes, thank you and sorry,” Hueningkai says. He pulls out the piece of parchment and scans it. “Well, here are the symptoms we’ve somewhat agreed on, though you are certainly free to correct it and change it when you see fit. All right, here we are.” He sucks in a deep breath, adjusting his glasses, “The first sign, though it isn’t very defining, is a normal spring fever, concerning of sniffles and regular allergies. At least a week after they appear, should they refrain from disappearing, a fever will come. This will then lead to shortness of breath before the final part of stage one of the infection, which is a series of terrible headaches. At this time, any patient experiencing at least 50% of these symptoms is to be quarantined in a hospital or infirmary and kept away from as few people as possible.

“Stage two, with most if not all of the previous symptoms still active, begins with constant and very extreme coughing fits. By now, the patient must be placed in medical custody for their safety and others’. Sometime after the coughing begins, the patient will begin coughing up bloody phlegm. Not long after, the patient’s skin will become very thin and paper-like, tearing quite easily. The final part of stage two is a near inability to breathe, which can be told from the rattling of the chest and constant gasping sounds.

“The third and final stage,” Hueningkai says, “begins when the skin of the patient begins to lose its color, though it will gradually turn from white to black. As this continues, the veins in the patient’s eyes will begin to burst while the patient themself will cry tears that look to be made of ink. As the plague begins to finish its victim, they will begin to bleed from their mouth, as the filters turning it into saliva will stop working. By now, the patient should have been kept in bed and will now be totally isolated, and visitors must talk through a screen.” He looks around the room which is now dead silent, hanging off of the man’s every word. “The final part of the third stage is when the plague truly shows itself on the victim as a dark sort of infection that will eat away at the body until they are completely covered in its essence.” He shuffles his papers. “After that, it’s recommended that all bodies are burnt since funerals could risk infection spreading.”

Everyone, including Yeonjun and Soobin, is rendered speachless. Hueningkai looks around the room, his expression grim. 

“Well then,” Soobin says, finally, shifting in place, “I suppose we should begin making plans, yes?” 

“Have we found any sort of possible source?” Yoongi says. 

“Hanna-Noona and Dae-Jung Hyung both said they’d been getting a lot of Aestrathian immigrants,” Yeonjun says. 

“Why are we getting a lot?” Minjun says, frowning and tilting his head. 

“Rebellion,” Jimin tells him. “While it’s obvious that they’ve been needing a reform for quite some time, though I suppose . . . well, I simply wish they could do it some other time or some other way. Then again, we aren’t exactly different from them, are we?” 

Soobin, Yeonjun, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jeongguk, Hueningkai, and Yoongi all laugh. No, they aren’t, Yeonjun supposes. He remembers the Ifanian elite especially moving to Aestrath because they thought they’d have a better chance of keeping their riches there. 

“We should send the surrounding territories messages to ask if they’ve been hit by the plague as well,” Taehyung murmurs. He leans over and looks at the map spread out on the table, decorated with little x’s for where the plague is worst. “Maybe they’re facing something similar and we can try and figure a cure out faster?” 

“Don’t expect Aestrath to respond too quickly,” Jeongguk says. “They’re dealing with a rebellion; it’ll probably take a bit before they can answer.” 

Soobin hums and nods, watching thoughtfully. Yeonjun looks over at him then at the map, a heavy stone of dread weighing in his stomach when he notices the areas already infected. 

“What are we going to do?” Hoseok says, his voice quiet. Soobin shifts in his seat and leans forward. 

“It’s the same plan we discussed last time,” Yeonjun says. “We shut down the place and warn people to start getting ready. We check the funds we have for things like famine or drought and use them for this, though we should still encourage people to get ready for planting and harvesting season. Who knows how long this will last?” 

Multiple people nod and Yeonjun notes someone writing the orders down. 

“So, it’s official?” a doctor says. Soobin nods. 

“We have to get ready for the worst and hope for the best,” he says. “Have you begun cataloguing deaths?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

“How bad is it?” Yeonjun says. There’s murmuring and the sound of parchment and scrolls being shifted about and looked through, though he receives no answer. 

“It’s unclear, Your Majesty,” someone finally says. Yeonjun can’t help but click his tongue, worry wrapping itself around his heart. 

“All right, then,” Soobin says, “this council will now come to a close and the orders will be issued as soon as possible. I want them spread all around the empire, all right?” 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” someone says. Soobin gets up, then, and everyone follows. They exit the room and head down the hall, though Yeonjun makes sure he can grab Minjun. 

“Don’t go into the infirmary anymore, all right?” he says. “Make sure your brothers do the same. I’ll tell them, though I can’t promise I’ll always be around to keep them from doing it.” 

Minjun, thankfully, nods. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hand. 

“Okay,” he says. He smiles at Yeonjun, then, and hugs him. “I love you.” 

Yeonjun smiles. 

“I love you too,” he says. “Stay safe, all right? Make sure you go to your lessons as well.” 

Minjun snorts and walks off, shaking his head. 

“I know, Eomma!” he calls over his shoulder as he goes. Yeonjun crosses his arms and shakes his head, clicking his tongue before turning away. Gods, now he has to unpack. 

Later that night, sometime after they’ve unpacked and eaten dinner, Soobin and Yeonjun sit together and pore over as many records of disease as they can find. The tea they had brought in has long since gone cold, though neither man cares. It’s easier to drink that way. 

“Gods, what is this?” Yeonjun murmurs. He pushes his glasses up and rubs one of his eyes, sighing heavily. “And why is it so sudden? Is it some sort of magic or something? A curse? But why?” 

“Do you know if they’ve heard anything from the gods themselves?” Soobin says tiredly. “Perhaps it could be from one of them.” 

“But why?” Yeonjun says. “Also, if it is coming from Aestrath, why isn’t there anything about how they handled it? Do you know if we have any records from there?” 

“You’d have to check the library,” Soobin says. He yawns. “Who knows. By now, it feels as if we’re doing this all for nothing.” 

Yeonjun hums. 

“We’re both too tired to retain any sort of useful information, though I can assure you that I could probably recite this one page here in my sleep,” he says jokingly. Soobin laughs and crawls over, wrapping his arms around him and tugging him back so they both fall onto the bed. Yeonjun laughs back and squirms about in his hold before going limp with a heavy sigh. 

“Mm, do you think it’s going to be okay?” Soobin says. Yeonjun looks up at him. 

“I don’t know,” he says softly, beginning to trace the lines of Soobin’s hand. “I - well, I certainly do  _ hope _ everything turns out alright, though I can’t make any promises.” He sighs softly. “I simply - well, I guess all we can do is prepare for the worst and hope for the best, the way you said earlier.” 

Soobin laughs softly and leans down to kiss the top of his head. 

“You’re right,” he says. Yeonjun sits up and grins at him. 

“Aren’t I always?” 

They go and return the books before going to bed. Yeonjun can’t tell the time, though he knows that nearly everyone else in the palace is asleep by now. It isn’t long before Soobin joins them, leaving Yeonjun to lie awake in bed. His husband’s body is warm and his presence is comforting, though even Soobin can’t put his worries and mind to rest. 

Yeonjun sighs heavily, closing his eyes. He rolls onto his side and stares at Soobin, smiling softly and sleepily at him. 

“Gods, what are we going to do?” he whispers. He reaches out and just barely lets his finger run over Soobin’s eyebrow, smiling when his face scrunches up in retaliation. He remembers how Minjun used to do that as a baby. Jihwan would always bat at his hand whenever he was touched while sleeping, though Chan-Young never seemed to have a reaction. 

_ I wonder how Soo-Jung would’ve reacted, _ he thinks, most likely a bit delirious from lack of sleep. He shakes his head at himself and rolls back onto his back, sighing again as he closes his eyes. 

_ Gods, let me sleep, _ he thinks. 

And then, before he can even try to follow that train of thought, Yeonjun’s consciousness slips away. 

Once again, he awakens in a field of violets and pansies. He looks around, tense and scared. His heart pounds in his chest as he clenches his fists by his sides, staring into the darkness. 

“Hello?” he says, thankful but also a bit alarmed that he can now speak normally. “Who’s there? Why did you bring me here?” 

Just as before, he receives no answer. Yeonjun wonders, distantly, in the farther reaches of his mind, how he would’ve reacted if he  _ had _ received an answer. 

_ I’d be pretty scared,  _ he thinks to himself. He shifts in place, the soft sound of water - if it can be called that - rippling cutting gently through the silence of the field. He moves until he’s turned around, staring at the chair. It’s a simple thing, wooden and unpainted, though it strikes fear into Yeonjun’s heart. He stares at it, seemingly unable to do anything but breathe and blink. He looks over his shoulder at the darkness and steps forward to get further into the light, though he doubts that it’s any safer.

_ Yeonjun _ .

The empress stops. The voice isn’t one he’s heard before, but it turns his blood to ice and makes him freeze up with fear. It clearly belongs to some divine being, though Yeonjun can’t pinpoint which. 

“Who are you?” he calls into the darkness. “Who are you and what do you want?” 

He receives no answer, and Yeonjun tenses further. He clenches his fists and his jaw, his nails digging into his palms. 

“Answer me, coward,” he spits. “Who are you?” 

_ Do not be so rash with your words, Majesty, _ the voice whispers and then, suddenly, Yeonjun feels something wrapping around his throat. He gasps and chokes, clawing at it desperately, though it doesn’t do a thing. He falls to his knees and watches, scared out of his wits, as the flowers around him begin to grow over his body. They start with his feet then climb up his legs, toward his face. All the while, Yeonjun continues to gasp for air, tugging at the vines around his throat. His vision begins to grow spotty and Yeonjun feels himself shake, his body losing stability as his consciousness slowly slips away from his grasp. 

“Help me,” he gasps, though he doubts that there’s anyone here who has intentions of doing so. Here’s not to say he isn’t alone, though. 

Finally, Yeonjun falls. The flowers cover him hungrily, desperately, though he can’t bring himself to care. After all, it’s only a dream, isn’t it?

He wakes with a sudden gasp. Yeonjun jerks up in bed, clutching his throat and looking around the bedroom. Soobin is still asleep beside him, though Yeonjun wouldn’t be surprised if-

“Yeonjun?” a soft voice says, coming from his husband. Yeonjun, somehow, despite his rather terrifying nightmare, smiles at him and tucks a curl behind his ear. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. Soobin shrugs, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He beckons Yeonjun over and the older curls up beside him, tucked into his embrace. Soobin sighs softly, now wearing his glasses. He kisses the top of Yeonjun’s head and draws circles on his shoulder, looking out into their dark chambers. 

“Nighmare?” he says. Yeonjun hums, shrugging. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says. Soobin hums back, the circles coming to a stop. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” he says. Yeonjun frowns, pondering. Would he? He’s already had two dreams with this same central theme of violets, pansies, and death, so that has to mean  _ something _ , doesn’t it?

“There were a lot of . . . violets and pansies,” he says. Soobin stiffens beside him. “I - I was alone, standing in a field of them. And there was a wooden chair.” He shrugs. “Then I died. Or something, I don’t know.” 

Soobin hums, playing with his hair. Yeonjun leans back against him, closing his eyes and sighing softly. 

“Do you . . . do you think it means anything?” he says softly. Yeonjun hums and shrugs, opening his eyes to look up at him. 

“Have you . . . have you had any visions about it?” he says, fear creeping slowly into his voice. Soobin chews on his lower lip. 

“Kind of,” he says. He shakes his head, sighing. “It’s probably nothing. Just make sure not to go out too much anymore. Everyone should, really.” 

Yeonjun laughs, turning around to cup his face. 

“Of course, I’m not stupid,” he says. Soobin smiles at him, reaching up to comb his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair. 

“Don’t worry, I know that quite well,” he says. “I knew it the moment I saw you jump into that pond all those years ago.” 

“Gods, how long have we known each other?” Yeonjun says. He counts on his fingers. If he’s thirty-six, turning thirty-seven, and they met when they were five and six years old . . . well, then they’ve known each other for thirty years by now.

“Thirty years,” Soobin breathes. Yeonjun looks up at him and grins. 

“Well, don’t you wear it well!” he says. Soobin laughs, shaking his head. 

“Good to know you still have that dry type of humor,” he drawls. Yeonjun snorts, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“Mmm, good to know,” he says. Soobin shakes his head again, continuing to card his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair. 

“Gods, we’ve done so much in the past thirty years,” he says. He sighs. “Three decades in which we’ve fought a war, rewritten a government, and had four kids. Can you believe it?” 

“Well,” Yeonjun says, shifting to get more comfortable with his place in Soobin’s lap, “thirty years  _ is _ quite a lot. I don’t think it’s too much to expect that there’s been  _ something _ done in that time, don’t you agree?” 

Soobin shakes his head for the third time, scoffing at his husband’s antics. 

“But I feel as if expecting a rebellion and government reform from our children is a bit . . . much,” he says. Yeonjun chuckles. 

“I suppose I can lower such expectations,” he says. He smiles as he thinks of Minjun. “But they’re still going to do great things, I just know it.” 

“Psh, of course, they are,” Soobin says. “They’re our kids. They’re all good kids and they’re all so smart - it’s all - everything is set up for them to succeed. They’re going to do even more than us.” 

“We’re just the building blocks,” Yeonjun says. Soobin snorts a laugh and tugs him closer, moving him around so he’s facing outward. Yeonjun laughs and reaches behind himself to tangle his fingers in Soobin’s hair, grinning. 

“Gods, I love you so much,” Soobin says. He grins back at Yeonjun. “Just felt like it needed to be said again.” 

“Oh, gods, don’t get all mushy on me,” Yeonjun says, even though he’s just as guilty as Soobin is for being sappy. “We need to go to bed, don’t forget.” He kisses him. “Also, I love you too.” 

Soobin laughs at him, shaking his head.

“All right, all right,” he says. He smiles and slumps down, Yeonjun rolling off of him. “Good night, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Yeonjun says. Soobin grins at him and Yeonjun grins back. He reaches forward and intertwines their hands, exhaustion already beginning to catch up with him. Soobin kisses his nose and Yeonjun snorts, shaking his head as his eyes begin to droop. Not long after, they’re both sound asleep.

Yeonjun wakes at a normal time and he stretches his arms with a yawn. Soobin looks up from his pillow, blinking tiredly and squinting against the sunlight. 

“Oh, can’t you get up like a normal person?” he says raspily. Yeonjun laughs, shaking his head and ruffling his own hair as he tries to blink himself awake. 

“You should’ve known when you married me that you’d never do anything normally again,” he says. Soobin laughs, shaking his head as he too sits up and grabs his glasses. He pushes his hair back with one hand and looks around their room, blinking when he notices how the sunlight streaming through their windows lights the room up. 

“We need to get new curtains,” he says tiredly. “It’s far too early to be awake at this hour.” 

“No, no, it isn’t,” Yeonjun says. Soobin grunts and takes his glasses off, slamming his face into one of the pillows and covering his head with the other. Yeonjun laughs and begins to playfully tug it away, bringing up how he’ll have to get out of bed sooner or later and how he used to be such an early riser. 

“What happened to you?” Yeonjun says. 

“I need sleep!” Soobin says. “I had kids and now I need every bit of sleep I can get!” 

Yeonjun snorts, shaking his head and finally yanking the pillow free. Soobin, like the drama queen he can sometimes be, hisses when the sun shines directly in his eyes, turning away and curling up in bed. Yeonjun shakes his head as he gets up, heading to the bathroom. 

“Goodbye, you doofus!” he calls over his shoulder. Soobin squawks in protest as Yeonjun closes the bathroom door, turning on the water and shedding his clothes. The servants will be here soon enough to help them get dressed, though he’s perfectly capable of drawing his own bath and brushing his teeth. They didn’t have any servants back in Ilsan, so he didn’t have much of a choice. 

“Ah, gods, I wish I could take a day off,” Soobin grumbles. Yeonjun laughs at him, now sitting in the tub. He shifts so he’s leaning against the edge, resting his chin on his arms. 

“I’m sure there’s a way,” he says. Soobin snorts and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. 

“Mm, I think I’ll just wait until I retire,” he says. Yeonjun laughs again, moving to the side as his husband joins him.

“All right,” he says. “I’m sure Minjun will be a spectacular emperor. Do you think he’ll ever get married?” 

“Haven’t a clue,” Soobin says. He sighs. “We’ll let him decide for himself. He’ll be a lot happier that way, I think. Also, even if he doesn’t have kids, he has two siblings and a whole bunch of cousins to do it for him. Surely  _ someone’s _ going to do it.” 

“Ew, don’t talk about our kids or nieces and nephews having sex,” Yeonjun says, splashing Soobin. The Alpha gapes at him. 

“I never said that!” he says. “I don’t want to think about that either!” 

“Good!” Yeonjun says. Soobin laughs and sinks deeper into the water, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you’re still this ridiculous,” Soobin says. Yeonjun laughs and splashes him. 

“Oh, don’t act as if it isn’t your fault too,” he says. “After all, you’ve been indulging me for  _ years _ .” 

“Three decades, apparently,” Soobin says. Yeonjun snorts, shaking his head. 

“Come on, don’t be a big baby,” he says as he gets out. He grabs a towel and begins drying off. “I’ll see you at breakfast, yeah?” 

Soobin groans as he walks out and Yeonjun laughs, shaking his head. He gets dressed and then goes down the hall. 

“Your Imperial Majesty!” someone calls, the sound of footsteps cutting through the delicate quiet of the palace. Yeonjun turns and looks over his shoulder, just as Chae-Young comes out of her room.

“Yes?” Yeonjun says, frowning. The servant bends over, putting his hands on his knees. 

“The - the wolves - they - they’ve returned and they need to see you and your husband as soon as possible.” 


	4. Shortness of Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun really wishes he knew what was going on. These dreams really aren't helping.

Yeonjun frowns, then turns to his niece. 

“Can you take care of the others?” he says. “Make sure to send Hueningkai and Jeongguk and Hoseok over here. Tell everyone else that Soobin and I won’t be attending breakfast, all right?” 

The girl nods, then Yeonjun turns around and grabs his skirts, following the servant quickly. They run into Soobin along the way and quickly explain the situation, though no one knows very much about what’s going on. Yeonjun supposes all they can do is wait until they meet Taehyun, Beomgyu, and their children. 

“Hyungs,” Taehyun says the moment they get outside. He looks terrible, his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes the slightest bit sunken. He’s clearly lost weight. 

“What is it? You, go and get them food and water and new clothes. I refuse to hear a word from any of you before then,” Yeonjun says quickly. The servant nods before rushing off and Yeonjun reaches out to help his brother to sit down. Soobin offers his arm to Beomgyu but the younger shakes his head, instead allowing his daughter to help him. Yeonjun looks worriedly at his nieces, brother, and brother-in-law, chewing his lip. 

“We-”

“Not a word until you’ve all somewhat restored your strength,” Soobin says. Taehyun frowns and stares at his lap, dirty caked beneath his fingernails. Beomgyu, Sarang, Byeol, and Areum aren’t much different. 

Once they’re all eating and they’ve all changed and bathed, Yeonjun sits down across from his brother and looks expectantly at him.

“The forest,” Sarang says quietly. She takes another bite. “We - there was some sort of - some sort of mist surrounding the forest. We couldn’t get in.” 

“It would force us out whenever we tried,” Taehyun says. He sighs, putting his chopsticks down and shaking his head. “Gods, and then - and then Areum got caught in it. And we couldn’t - none of us could hunt because there wasn’t anything  _ to _ hunt and we all had to find her.” He nuzzles his youngest daughter and the girl leans against him, staring at her food. 

“Do you need to go to the infirmary?” Hoseok says. The girl shakes her head while Beomgyu mouths ‘yes, as soon as possible’ at them. Yeonjun nods and beckons a servant over. 

“Could you please bring some medical supplies and a doctor to Areum’s room for when she gets back? Make sure she knows what’s happening and just check on how she’s feeling, you know. Get her parents as well,” he whispers. The girl nods and then walks off. Beomgyu shoots Yeonjun a grateful look while Byeol watches the interaction quietly, then turning her attention back to her food. Byeol’s eyes, unlike her sisters’, have slowly changed from brown to a wolfish gold, something that makes her very unnerving. Like her parents and sisters, her fangs are a little sharper than normal and her ears are ever so slightly pointed, though her eyes set her apart from the rest of her family. Then again, strange features do seem to run in their bloodline, as Yeonjun’s hair is a testament to that. 

“That’s rather strange,” Soobin says. He frowns and drums his nails on the table. “It was fine when we went through, though I suppose that we didn’t travel in too deep. Where was this?” 

“The outskirts,” Byeol says. She looks at her younger sister. “Areum went too close-”

“It’s not my fault!” the younger girl snaps. Byeol frowns. 

“I never said it was,” she says calmly. Areum huffs and continues eating, the clatter of the family’s chopsticks being the only sound in the room for a few moments. 

“Anyway,” Beomgyu says, eyes darting to his daughters, “Taehyun and I have decided to go back to keep watch and make sure it doesn’t grow.” 

“What about us?” Sarang says. “What do we do?” 

“Stay here,” Taehyun says firmly, hinting to the others that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. Sarang scowls at her food, mirroring her younger sister’s expression as she pushes her food around. 

“When should we go?” Jeongguk says. “Well, I mean, if we’re going to check it out.”

“Two or three days,” Soobin says. He looks at Taehyun and Beomgyu. “You two need to rest before doing anything else. All of you do. We’re a team, and we need everyone to be as healthy as possible, okay?”

Everyone nods and Yeonjun is relieved by the lack of protest. He stands up, then, Soobin doing the same. 

“See you around?” he says. Taehyun and Beomgyu both nod, their daughters continuing to eat. Yeonjun and Soobin leave then, walking away quietly. 

The next two days pass in a sort of blur. Mostly, they’re full of preparations for some sort of quarantine as more cases begin coming in. Yeonjun feels sick everytime he sees the papers with the growing lists of names, unable to look at them for long. He can’t understand how Hueningkai manages to do it. 

“All right,” Taehyun says. Soobin, Yeonjun, Jeongguk, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jimin are all on horsseback while Taehyun and Beomgyu plan to shift. Taehyung and Hueningkai are both in the infirmary, trying to treat as many people as they can. No one has been completely isolated, though it’s still dangerous to go there without any sort of protection. Yeonjun has forbade all of the children from going there unless they need it. 

“Shall we get going, then?” Jeongguk says. Taehyun and Beomgyu both shift, the two wolves shaking a bit before they bound off. Soobin leads and it isn’t long before their horses are rushing through the city, hooves clattering against the stone streets. Yeonjun would be lying if he said he didn’t see anyone, though, for the most part, the place seems pretty empty. He can tell that the others are looking around too, curious to see how their orders have been received and followed. 

They ride for a few hours before they arrive at the edge of the forest. Yeonjun sees the mist first, softly creeping toward them. He frowns and tugs his cloak closer, his horse whinnying as they move forward. 

“Leave the horses,” Taehyun says. He waves his hand. “It’s best for everyone if they don’t go any further.” 

Everyone dismounts, adjusting their cloaks. The fog is already rather thick as it crawls toward them, smoky tendrils reaching for their feet. Yeonjun takes a few steps back, something warning him to keep from letting the mist get too close.

“What . . . is it?” Jimin says, frowning and also taking a few steps away from it. Taehyun frowns and looks out, his brow furrowed.

“Who knows?” Beomgyu says. He turns to look at Soobin. “What should we do?” 

Soobin frowns and cups his chin, looking carefully at the fog. 

“Could . . . do you think we can explore further?” he says at last. “I don’t think we should go into the forest, though I want to get a look at the actual trees, to see if they’ve been affected by this fog or anything.” 

“All right,” Beomgyu says. “I don’t think it’ll be too dangerous if we get a little closer, but just make sure to stay together. Does anyone have any sort of torch?” 

And so, they begin walking toward the forest. Jeongguk holds the torch, the flames casting a red light over his face. They remain clumped around him, making sure no one wanders off. 

_ Yeonjun. _

He stops.

_ Yeonjun, come closer. _

Someone gently nudges him forward, and Yeonjun offers an embarrassed smile as he keeps walking. 

_ Yeonjun, are you sure? _

_ Stop, _ Yeonjun thinks.  _ Leave me - us alone.  _

A whisper of a laugh tickles his ears. Yeonjun grabs Yoongi’s hand. The older Omega turns and looks over at him, though he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, he simply tugs Yeonjun forward, giving him a gentle smile. It soothes Yeonjun to some extent, though he still feels rather unsure about going any further. 

“Here we are,” Beomgyu says. They all stop and look at the large, looming trees, all of which are surrounded by a thick fog. Yeonjun can hardly see past the bright, orange light of the torch in Jeongguk’s hand, though even that seems rather dulled by the fog. He feels Yoongi stiffen as the grip on his hand tightens, something that sends shivers down Yeonjun’s spine.

“Gods,” Jimin says softly, a bit breathless. 

“You can say that again,” Yoongi says. Jimin murmurs something under his breath, though Yeonjun can’t be bothered to pay attention as he takes a step forward, the whispers of some sort of being tickling his ears. Unlike when he stood farther from the forest, they’re all garbled and he can’t understand them. He knows, though, that something is whispering to him, beckoning him forward. 

“Yeonjun.” 

The man turns around, staring at Taehyung. The older Omega has a hand wrapped around his wrist, his grip firm and grounding. Yeonjun looks down and then turns back to the forest, frowning. 

“What is it?” Hoseok says. Yeonjun shakes his head, trying to force a smile onto his face. 

“Nothing,” he says. He sighs and rubs his eyes. “Just a bit tired. We should head back, make sure everything’s all right, yeah?” 

Everyone looks around at each other, doing nothing to hide their surprise and suspicion of Yeonjun’s strange attitude. He doesn’t blame them, though he can’t say that he likes it. Nonetheless, he takes it in stride as they all walk back, mounting his horse and leading the way to the palace.

“What do you plan on doing about the fog?” Yeonjun says. Soobin shrugs. 

“Well,” he says, “I’m going to send a small group of soldiers down to guard it and make sure no one goes in and help anyone who comes out, and I’d also like them to tell me if it seems to spread at all.”

“You should try and find some sort of design to keep them from inhaling it,” Yeonjun murmurs, leaning against his husband. Soobin hums and begins to play with his hair, nails scraping gently against Yeonjun’s scalp. 

“Mm, you’re right,” he says. He sighs softly and kisses the top of Yeonjun’s head. “But we can’t do anything about it if we’re running on two or three hours of sleep, can we?” 

Yeonjun snorts, shaking his head and slumping down so he’s lying on the bed. Soobin does the same after removing his glasses, turning to smile at Yeonjun through the darkness. The moon remains hidden and, thankfully, it isn’t long before both of them have fallen asleep.

[ _ BTS (방탄소년단) 'Black Swan' - Piano Cover _ ](http://youtube.com/watch?v=neAWx7-e6OY)

It seems, though, to whatever happens to be tormenting him, that the whispers from the foggy forest aren’t enough for the day. So Yeonjun once again finds himself in the field, standing amidst the not-so benign flowers. They’re soft beneath his feet, though Yeonjun knows better than to let that fool him. He remains far from the chair and clenches his fists, looking around. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he calls into the darkness, mimicking his children. The darkness seems patronizing, though Yeonjun knows no such thing should be possible since it lacks a body, much less a face. So why does he feel as if he’s being watched?

“Hey!” Yeonjun yells. He scowls, flaring his nostrils angrily. And then, before he can think better of it, Yeonjun rushes into the darkness, leaping through the field. 

“ **STOP,** ” a voice commands, and then Yeonjun is flung back into the bed of flowers. He jerks away from the creeping plants and leaps to his feet, scowling. 

“Who are you?” he demands, though he knows this is only a dream. Nonetheless, he still feels furious at being thrown around like a rag doll. 

“ **Insolent Omega, pretending to be something,** ” the voice spits. Yeonjun feels his fury growing as he digs his nails into his palms, glaring. 

“What do you want?” he says. 

A chuckle dances through the otherwise empty field, sending a litany of shivers through his body. Yeonjun looks around, trying to keep from showing his fear. 

“ **You’re scared, aren’t you?** ” the voice teases. Yeonjun glares. “ **Ah, good. Good, you should be.** ”

“Why?” Yeonjun says, frowning and arching an eyebrow. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

The voice laughs at him as if he’s a curious child asking questions about things that don’t matter. 

“ **It is the price you must pay for how you and your people have wronged me,** ” the voice hisses. 

And then, suddenly, Yeonjun wakes up. He’s drowning in cold sweat, droplets of ice running over his skin. He finds himself to be sitting up, gasping desperately for air. 

“Oh, gods, what the hell,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms and drawing his knees close to his chest. He sighs shakily, trying to convince himself he isn’t scared. “Fuck . . .”

“Hm?” Soobin murmurs from beside him. Yeonjun turns and smiles at his Alpha, sliding down so he’s lying next to him. 

“Did I wake you?” he whispers. Soobin’s nose scrunches when his breath tickles it and he shakes his head, his eyes remaining closed. 

“Mm, no,” he says, voice thick and raspy with sleep. Yeonjun chuckles and kisses his nose, leaning their foreheads together and closing his eyes with a shaky exhale. 

“‘M sorry,” he says. Soobin huffs and then, with his eyes still closed, he wraps his arms around Yeonjun and tugs him over so he’s pressed against his chest.

“Didn’t,” he pauses to yawn, “didn’t say that you woke me up,” he mumbles. “In fact, I told you the exact opposite of that. Now go back to sleep, you’re safe here.” 

Yeonjun laughs again and shakes his head, pressing himself closer to Soobin with a gentle sigh. He feels the younger man carding his fingers through his hair, the sensation slowly calming him down and soothing his nerves. 

He’s asleep before he knows it. 

He does not wake the way he normally does. Instead, the door to Soobin’s and Yeonjun’s chambers is flung open and the two are awoken by a servant tripping over his words, frantic and full of panic. In their nightclothes, Soobin and Yeonjun follow the boy through the sprawling corridors of the palace, stopping at the infirmary. 

“What is it? What is it?” Yeonjun says. The servant tries to speak but Taehyung appears before him, bedraggled and probably running on an hour or so of sleep. 

“You’ll want to see it for yourselves,” he says, his voice and expression grim. He turns and leads them into the infirmary, past the beds of gasping patients. Gods, Yeonjun had no idea that there were this many victims already. Has he really been that out of touch with his people this entire time?

“What is it?” Soobin says as they walk. Taehyung doesn’t answer, only continuing to weave through the various beds placed around them. Gods, Yeonjun feels like a terrible empress.

“Huening-ah? It’s me, I have Yeonjun and Soobin with me,” Taehyung says, having stopped to knock on a door. The door opens slowly, revealing a ragged Hueningkai. The doctor’s long brown hair is tied back in a messy bun, strands escaping to hang about. His eyes are bloodshot with purple semi-circles stamped underneath them, lips chapped. He looks, to be frank, awful.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” he says when he sees them. He steps aside, revealing a body covered with a white sheet. If Yeonjun tries hard enough, he can hear the desperate whines and gasps for mercy over the pained cries of the other patients.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Yeonjun says, shivering. Hueningkai doesn’t say anything as he walks forward, gently removing the sheet. 

Very promptly, Yeonjun turns around and vomits. The stench - gods, it feels like the scent version of  _ hell _ . His eyes water and bile continues rising up in his throat as someone rubs his back, his knuckles white from how hard he grips the pot. It smells like carrion, but only if that carrion had been dipped in a mixture of spoiled milk and eggs, then finally left out to dry beneath the heat of the sun. Even that description doesn’t seem to do it justice. 

When he stops and stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Hueningkai and Taehyung only look at him with matching grim expressions. 

“What - what on earth?” he says. The patient is infected with something that reminds Yeonjun of the final stage of the plague (what little he’s seen), with a thick, black essence consuming the side of their face. They twitch constantly, lips open and parted as they beg desperately for death. The infection - for lack of a better term - has completely covered half of their entire body and greedily consumes more and more of its victim. Hueningkai has surrounded the body with charms to keep the whatever from getting out, though Yeonjun still can tell how dangerous it is. 

“We don’t know,” Hueningkai says. He sighs, sitting down and pushing his hair back with his hand. “We’ve never seen anything like it before, not even - never. I’ve sent out messages to as many doctors as I can think of and none - not one of them can offer even the  _ ghost _ of an answer. And gods, if we don’t figure out what the  _ hell _ this thing is, well, then . . . I don’t know.” He puts his head in his hands and his shoulders shake. “I don’t  _ know _ .” 

“No one does,” Taehyung says. He rests a hand on Hueningkai’s back. “Why don’t you go back to bed? I can watch them, I’ll call if I need help. I have plenty-”

“But this - I have the most magic out of anyone here,” he argues. “I can’t leave, not with so many people dying like this. It’s - if they do, then it’s mine - it’s my fault. I have to stay here.” 

“Go to sleep, both of you,” Soobin says firmly. “Don’t come back here until you’ve both taken at least a whole day off. We have other people to tend to the patients, okay?” 

Taehyung stands straight and frowns, shaking his head as he says, “But we - I can’t. These people-”

“You won’t be of any help if you pass out from exhaustion,” Yeonjun says. He shakes his head and offers a hand to both of them. “Come along, now, let’s go to bed. We’ll check in the morning, yes? I want you two to stay in bed, though, and let the servants tend to you. Now come on.” 

Eventually, he manages to get the two of them to their respective rooms. Then, Yeonjun and Soobin head to their own bedroom.

“Wait,” Soobin says, grabbing Yeonjun’s wrist. The older turns around to look at him, tilting his head. “I want to go check on the kids.” 

Fear lashes through Yeonjun and he nods, grabbing his husband’s hand as they walk through the hall until they reach Minjun’s door. It’s closed and it looks untouched, though that does little to soothe Yeonjun’s bubbling anxieties.

Carefully, Yeonjun opens the door. Inside, the room is bathed in darkness, a sleeping figure lying in the center of the bed beneath the blankets. Yeonjun’s heart continues to pound as he walks over and sits on the bed, gently pushing some of Minjun’s hair away from his face. He’s still fast asleep, high, whistling, but still rather soft snores cutting through the air. Yeonjun feels himself melting at his son’s cuteness and Soobin comes over, sitting on his knees to listen. He giggles at his son’s snore, smiling as well. 

“Eomma? Appa?” Minjun mumbles, slowly prying his eyes open. He blinks, a small frown decorating his face as he tries to get up. “Wha-what’s going on?” 

“Nothing, nothing, go back to sleep, Jun-ah,” Soobin says gently. Minjun hums and lies back down, grabbing the edge of the blanket and tugging it over his head. Yeonjun feels relief wrap gently around his shoulders, draping itself over him like a cloak as he rises from the bed and walks out with Soobin. Jihwan’s room is next, and Yeonjun watches as Soobin gently pushes the door open and walks in. 

“Mmm, go away,” the boy grumbles, rolling away from the light streaming into his room through the open door. Soobin and Yeonjun both chuckle as Yeonjun gets down to press a kiss to his forehead. Jihwan bats at him and Yeonjun laughs again, then he and Soobin leave. 

Chan-Young is the last one they check on. True to his word, he hasn’t snuck into his parents’ bedroom for a few good months, and Yeonjun can’t say he doesn’t miss it. Yes, of course, it stressed him out and deprived him of sleep, but Yeonjun still likes to have his kids cuddling with him. 

Like his brothers, Chan-Young is lying quietly in bed. He seems perfectly fine from afar, but something warns Yeonjun and he finds himself dashing forward, shaking Chan-Young and crying his name. 

“Chan-ah, Chan-ah, wake up!” he says, staring at his son’s wide, blank eyes. Suddenly, the little boy’s jaw drops open and he shrieks loudly, the sound filling the once quiet room. Yeonjun looks around as fear fills his veins, looming over him as he tries desperately to wake his son. 

“Soobin, get over here!” he calls over his shoulder. Chan-Young’s eyes are glazed over as he kicks his feet, screaming and thrashing in bed. Yeonjun thinks he can hear people rushing through the halls to get to them, though he can’t process anything as he shakes his son and cries, trying to wake him. 

“ **DO YOU SEE?** ” a voice booms inside of his head. “ **I WILL TEAR YOU AND YOUR FAMILY APART. YOUR BLOODLINE SHALL NEVER TAINT MY EMPIRE.** ” 

Yeonjun simply shrieks louder, shutting his eyes and clutching his head. Against his will, he stumbles away from Chan-Young and falls to his knees, screaming in dissonance his son. Someone grabs him and Yeonjun continues screaming, fingers wrapping around his hair to tug at the indigo locks. 

“HYUNG!” someone screams, shaking him. Yeonjun shakes his head as tears fall from his eyes, sliding down his skin and painting his face with a delicate sheen. He sobs, shaking in place, as arms wrap around him and press him close to their owner’s chest. The scents of ginger, lemongrass, and campfires fill his nose and Yeonjun gasps desperately, pressing his face into Taehyun’s shirt. It morphs into fur and he shakes as he knots his fingers in the stuff, soft and grounding against the chaos inside of his head. Taehyun nudges him with his snout, ears pressed to his head. Yeonjun gasps for air as he tries to calm down, slowly forcing himself to stop crying and tend to his child. When he manages to stop screaming, Yeonjun gets to his feet, a bit shaky, and walks to the bed. Chan-Young sits in his father’s arms, spaced out but silent. Yeonjun sits down, opening his arms. 

Thankfully, the little boy crawls forward and curls up in his mother’s embrace, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Yeonjun coos and begins petting his hair, hushing him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he murmurs into his hair, pressing the words there in the way secrets are meant to be told. Chan-Young holds his nightgown in his fists, shaking quietly. Yeonjun rocks him back and forth, trying to soothe his son. 

They sit together for several minutes, then, slowly, the people in the room begin to disperse. Chan-Young continues to shiver the entire time, even after he’s left in the room with only his parents and brothers. 

“How are you feeling?” Yeonjun says softly. Chan-Young doesn’t say anything as he presses himself closer to his mother, breathing slowly. Yeonjun supposes that’s a good sign, though it depends on how you look at it. 

He looks up at his other two sons. Minjun has a protective arm wrapped around Jihwan and he looks back at Yeonjun, big eyes unreadable. It feels . . . it feels as if there’s something separating them. 

_ “Go back to bed,” _ he mouths at them. Minjun nods once, curt, before guiding his younger brother out of the room. Soobin remains inside with Yeonjun and Chan-Young, sitting nearby. It isn’t until the boy falls asleep do they leave, heading back to their room. 

“We should check on Jihwan and Minjun first,” Soobin says, stopping Yeonjun. The older man hums and nods, turning to walk to Jihwan’s room. 

“Eomma? Appa?” Jihwan says when the door opens. He sits up. “Is - is Channie okay?” 

“He’ll be fine,” Yeonjun says, half to assure his son, half to assure himself. He goes to sit on the bed, smiling softly at his son. “It’s very kind of you to worry about him.” 

Jihwan shrugs. 

“It’s just night terrors again, right?” he says. “Nightmares?” 

“Mm, yeah,” Soobin says. He ruffles Jihwan’s hair. “It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” 

Jihwan grins at him, though his eyes betray him; they’re twin storms of worry and fear, swirling around in pools of chocolate brown. Yeonjun bites his lip. He should comfort him. It’s his job as a mother, isn’t it?

“I love you,” he says, suddenly, blurting the words out. This time, Jihwan’s grin is genuine, his eyes turning to twin crescent moons when he smiles. Yeonjun kisses him on the head. 

“Love you too,” he says. He looks at Soobin expectantly. 

“I love you,” the Alpha says, laughing. Jihwan huffs, slumping. 

“Love you too,” he grumbles. Soobin coos and kisses him on the cheek, ruffling his hair before getting up with Yeonjun. 

Minjun is sitting on his bed when the door opens. His back is to them, though the sudden stiffness in his shoulders betrays him, revealing that he knows of their presence. 

Casually, Yeonjun goes to sit beside him. 

“You know,” he says, “when trying to hide your emotions, you have to know your own tells so he can stop them.” He gently reaches out and starts adjusting Minjun’s posture, subtly keeping an eye on his expression. The boy is good at keeping his face blank, though Yeonjun’s also been playing games like these for  _ years _ . He thinks it’s safe to say he’s rather good at them. 

“Leave me alone,” Minjun huffs, refusing to look at him. It sends a stab of pain through Yeonjun’s chest, though he forces himself to hide it. Nonetheless, a frown still makes its way onto his face as he tilts his head and pushes a strand of indigo behind Minjun’s ear. 

“I have done something,” he says, softly, so Soobin might not even hear it. Minjun certainly does, though he acts as if they’ve stayed in silence. Yeonjun sighs, shaking his head and shifting so he too faces the balcony. Night has begun to fade as dawn takes its place, the early rays of the sun’s light tickling a violet sky. 

“It was unfair of me to offer no explanation,” Yeonjun says. Minjun remains silent. “Alas, I must admit that I truly do not have one that will suffice.” 

“Just - just tell me what’s going on,” Minjun mumbles. He sniffles and, out of the corner of his eye, Yeonjun watches him wipe his nose. “I mean - well, are they not my subjects - my  _ people _ as well? Will I not rule them on my own some day?” 

“You will,” Yeonjun says, nodding. He turns to his son. “And you will do far more than your father and I could ever dream.” 

Minjun looks over this time, raising his eyebrows at his mother. Yeonjun smiles gently at him, reaching out to pet his hair. 

“There are some things, though,” the older male says gently, “that we do not understand. And, well - perhaps you will not understand this as you have no children of your own - but it terrifies me when I think about you facing any sort of challenge such as this. It is-” he swallows hard “-it is not a traditional challenge you must face as a ruler.” 

“It’s a plague,” Minjun says. He tilts his head. “Is that not something known for its frequency?” 

“Not this type,” Soobin says, coming to sit beside Minjun so the boy is in between his parents. Soobin laughs a bit. “Then again, I suppose no plague is, not unless it is something that has been seen before. But then, I suppose we would know how to treat it, so does it truly qualify as such?” 

“Appa, quit talking nonsense,” Minjun says, scowling. Soobin hums and leans on his son’s shoulder. 

“Point is,” he says, “that we’re scared. Really, genuinely scared because - because-” his breath hitches and Yeonjun reaches around Minjun to rest a hand on his husband’s back “-we don’t know what we’re up against. I mean, if you have kids, you’ll understand how hard it is to admit that.”

“That’s no excuse to keep babying me,” Minjun says. He genuinely scowls this time, crossing his arms. “I’m fifteen. I’m two years younger than Uncle Huening was when the rebellion started. I’ve been preparing to rule this empire for  _ years _ . Give me a chance, yeah?” 

Yeonjun bites his lip.

“While it is admissible that we have done such a thing,” he says carefully, “you must understand-”

“I’m not a little kid anymore,” Minjun snaps. “Don’t treat me like it. How am I supposed to become empress if I’m only ever shown my world through a pair of rose-colored glasses?” 

_ He’s right, _ Yeonjun thinks, a bit begrudgingly. Minjun doesn’t look at his parents, simply staring out at the blushing sky and waking son. 

“You’re right,” Yeonjun finally says. He has to be able to admit such a thing if he wishes to be a good parent to his sons. “We - we have held onto your naïvete for too long.”

Minjun truly has plenty of Yeonjun in him; he’s quite literally  _ radiating _ smugness. 

“You shall start coming to all meetings,” Yeonjun says. 

“He already was, dear,” Soobin says softly. Yeonjun shifts in place. 

“Oh.” 

Minjun looks at him and his eyes soften as he reaches toward his mother, offering a smile. 

“Eomma,” he says and Yeonjun wants to cry, he doesn’t want Minjun to grow up, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m still your Minnie, aren’t I?” 

Yeonjun sniffles and wipes his nose, blinking back tears. 

“Do you blame me for wanting to hold onto such things?” he says weakly. He turns to his son and takes a good, long look at his son. Minjun has always looked more like Soobin, though he does have Yeonjun’s pouting lips and lacks Soobin’s dimples. Both Jihwan and Chan-Young have dimples, something that’s always fascinated Yeonjun. Most people agree that Minjun and Jihwan look more like Soobin while Chan-Young is a mix of the two. Like Taehyung (and Seokjin), Chan-Young has one monolid and one double lid, something that makes him even more endearing. Minjun has the faintest smattering of freckles over his nose while his skin is dark, more similar to Yeonjun’s than Soobin’s. Jihwan is the same, as he’s always enjoyed playing outside. Chan-Young is dark, though not as much as his brothers. 

“Eomma,” Minjun says softly, wiping a tear from his cheek, “I can’t stay a kid forever, can I?”

Yeonjun sniffles. 

“Well, I can wish you could, can’t I?” Yeonjun grumbles, pouting. Minjun laughs and hugs his mother, rubbing his cheek against his hair. Yeonjun tries not to cry. 

“I suppose so,” Minjun murmurs. He pulls away. “But you can’t always treat me like a kid, okay? I’m going - Eomma, there are people my age getting  _ married _ . I’m older than Uncle Beomgyu was when he became a prostitute.” 

“Well, that’s all illegal now,” Soobin chimes in. He sighs. “Gods, I hate that it took so long. I just hope things are better by now.” 

“They are,” Yeonjun says. “A lot of things have gotten better.” He looks at his son. “Gods, you’re going to be such an amazing ruler.” 

Minjun laughs. 

“Don’t worry, I know,” he says. “But we all need to sleep, yeah? See you at breakfast.” 

Yeonjun snorts and shakes his head, standing up and ruffling Minjun’s hair. 

“All right, all right,” he says. Minjun snorts and shakes his head. “We love you, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” 

Yeonjun sighs as he and Soobin walk out. They don’t have much time left before they’ll be getting up - it’s unlikely that either of them will be able to fall asleep before then. There’s not exactly a point in going back to bed now.

“I’m going to go check on Taehyungie-Hyung,” Yeonjun says. “Will you check on Huening?” 

Soobin nods. 

“Of course,” he says. He grabs Yeonjun’s hand and kisses his cheek. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

Soobin laughs, shaking his head and smiling. Yeonjun scowls at him as he walks down the hall to Hoseok’s and Hueningkai’s room, then he turns around to walk toward Taehyung’s and Jeongguk’s room. The halls are quiet, the fuss from earlier already having died down, much to Yeonjun’s relief. He sighs, shaking his head and stopping to rub his eyes. Gods, he’s going to be exhausted today, won’t he? 

_ Well, it can’t be worse than Hyung or Huening, _ he thinks as he knocks lightly on the door. He hears some shuffling and then it opens, revealing Jeongguk. 

“He’s sleeping,” he says, his voice soft. Yeonjun feels relief flood through him as he nods. 

“Okay,” he says. Jeongguk smiles at him. 

“Thanks for checking on him,” he says. He frowns, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But, uh, is Chan okay? Huening? All of you guys?” 

Yeonjun sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Everything - now, well, it feels - though it’s rather early, it feels like I haven’t a single clue about what’s going on.” 

Jeongguk offers him a smile. 

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” he says gently. Yeonjun sighs and shrugs, looking up at him and offering a tired smile. 

“Yeah, I’m sure we will,” he says. It feels like a lie, bitter and heavy on his tongue. Nonetheless, he waves at Jeongguk and walks quietly down the hall until he reaches his own bedroom.

Already, Soobin is in the bathroom. Yeonjun yawns and pads after him, stripping and climbing into the bath. His husband offers him a tired though still fond smile, and Yeonjun returns it as best as he can. He’d be lying if he said he feels any more calm as he sits in the tub, eyes closed in false relaxation. Soobin helps him out, offering a plush towel before heading out to get dressed. It isn’t long before Yeonjun follows him, water splattering on the floor in a trail behind him. He sits down and blinks sleepily, servants rushing about to help him get ready. They can certainly see his exhaustion, though he can’t exactly say that he’s trying to hide it, though such a thing seems rather impossible with the bags underneath his eyes. 

“Come on, dear, let’s go eat something,” Soobin mumbles, beckoning to him. Yeonjun grumbles as he forces himself to get up off of the plush stool, leaning against his husband as they stumble together to the dining hall. He swears that they get lost, though he’s far too sleep-deprived to be truly be 100% certain about anything. Gods, he’s absolutely  _ exhausted _ . He just wants to nap.

“I don’t think we have a lot to do,” Soobin mumbles as they walk through the palace halls. Yeonjun hums non-committally, trying to force himself to keep his eyes open. Gods, he thinks he’ll pass out if he has a council to attend to. All he wants to do is sleep for the next thousand years, though only if his children are safe. 

“Let’s hope you’re right,” he grumbles. He sighs heavily. “We have to make sure both Chan-Young and Jihwan take naps today. They’ll be insufferable by supper if they don’t.” 

Soobin laughs gently and nudges him with his face. 

“You can’t say that, it’ll make it seem as if you don’t like them,” he says. 

“I love them more than anything in the entire world, though I can state the obvious,” Yeonjun grumbles. “Doing so does not make me guilty of disliking my own children. I think the world of them all, yes, but they can all get quite grumpy when sleep-deprived.” 

“Like you?” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun huffs. “Yes, of course, like me, where else do you think they got it from? You’re still so proper when you’re tired,  _ one _ of us has to be a brat.”

“And it just so happens that it’s you,” Soobin sighs as they walk into the dining hall. Yeonjun hums, nodding his head in agreement. They sit down and begin eating quietly, the room filled with the soft chatter of the group and the clatter of utensils. 

“How are you two?” Yeonjun says to Taehyung and Hueningkai, not looking up from his eggs. They’ve been turned into a sad face with the help of a single slice of bacon. 

“Tired, but I feel better,” Taehyung says. His eyes land on Yeonjun’s sad breakfast. “I’m assuming that you don’t feel the same?” 

“My eggs are experiencing depression,” Yeonjun says sadly. He pokes one of the yellow yolks with his fork, pouting at them. Someone leans over his shoulder to look. 

“Eomma,” Minjun mumbles, “you’re so embarrassing.” 

Yeonjun huffs and looks up at his son, blinking slowly. “You can’t say that. I’m your Eomma.” 

“It’s his job,” Yoongi agrees, eating a bite of rice. He pats Chaeyoung on the head, drawing an annoyed expression and call of ‘Hey!’ from his daughter. “Once you become a parent, you’re bound forever to the need to embarrass yourself and your child no matter what.” 

“Ugh,” Minjun grumbles. Yeonjun snorts and nibbles on a piece of bacon, having stolen his eggs’ mouth to do so. Gods, he’s so tired. 

Breakfast is a pleasant affair, meaning no one starts bickering and there aren’t any sudden, panicky messengers bursting into the room. 

“I’m going to go take a nap,” Yeonjun grumbles. He throws a tired wave over his shoulder. “Wake me up for lunch, yes?” 

He doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, as he’s already out the door before he even finishes his request. 

Surprisingly, the next few days are rather silent when it comes to new disasters. Of course, Yeonjun knows better than to believe that everything’s okay; after all, there is still that poor patient’s body with that strange sort of infection. And gods, it’s only May. 

He sighs, shaking his head. He’s too tired for all of this shit. There’s too much-

“Majesties!” 

Ah, shit. Here we go again. 

“Yes?” Yeonjun says, adjusting his spectacles as he looks up at the messeger. The girl looks panicked, her hair wild and her eyes wide. 

“There - we - we’ve found it,” is all she says before promptly collapsing in a heap in the door to the imperial study. Yeonjun and Soobin both stand, their chairs clattering as they rush to the girl’s side. Yeonjun picks her up while Soobin leads the way down the hall until they reach the infirmary, but they’re stopped by Jeongguk. The Alpha looks ragged, his hair loose while his face is decorated with scratches. His armor is muddy and he’s breathing heavily, the sound loud in the once silent hallway. 

“General,” Soobin says, straightening, “what is it?” 

“Some - some sort of beast,” Jeongguk says. He shakes his head, tugging off one of his gloves to run a hand through his hair. “Gods, I haven’t a single clue. Take her to the infirmary first, then we’ll talk about it. Would you like me to call a council?” 

“Just call the rest of the pack. Bring whomever was with you when you encountered it as well,” Soobin says. Jeongguk nods before turning to the people crowded behind him, dismissing a few to the infirmary as well. Yeonjun and Soobin walk hurriedly through the corridors, people moving out of the way for the emperor and empress as they go. 

“Uncles, what’s going on?” Byeol says. 

“Just go to the council room,” Yeonjun tells her as he and Soobin rush by. “We’ll explain as much as we can there, all right? Make sure the younger children are distracted, please and thank you.” 

The girl nods, turning around and walking off. Yeonjun and Soobin continue, the sound of their footsteps cutting through the quiet. Yeonjun’s heart pounds as Soobin pushes the infirmary door open, walking in. 

“Help, help, please!” Yeonjun says. A nurse walks over and takes her from him, thanking them both with a bow. 

“Huening-ah! Taehyung-Hyung! We have to go!” Soobin calls. The two appear, Chaeyong with them, and, together, the five of them walk to the council room. 

As per usual, the room is in chaos when they arrive. Soobin opens the door with a bang, walking in with his head held high. 

“All right,” he says, turning to Jeongguk, “tell us what you saw, General.” 

Jeongguk pushes his hair back with his hand. 

“Some - some sort of monster has been ravaging our countrysides,” he says. “Messages haven’t been getting out far enough to spread the news. We - these people feel hopeless.” 

“What’s been stopping their messages? Have you found anything like that?” Yeonjun says. 

“We’re assuming it’s the monster,” one of Jeongguk’s soldiers says. He sighs. “It’s huge, Majesties. All black and inky, like some sort of - sort of-”

“Is it solid?” Hueningkai says. Everyone turns to him as the doctor tugs at his ponytail. “Is it solid or does it appear to be made out of a more liquid substance?” 

“Liquid,” the boy says. Hueningkai hums and begins looking around. 

“Could I have something to write this down?” he says. “I think - I believe it may be connected to the plague.” 

“Here,” Hoseok says, handing him a quill. He snags a piece of parchment and offers it to his husband as well, catching the inkwell slid over. He frowns, drums his nails on the table, then begins scribbling things down. 

“What’s your name?” Hueningkai says, looking up at the boy. He looks a bit startled and looks around, pointing to himself and turning to Jeongguk. The general pats his shoulder. 

“I’m - it’s Seungmin,” he says. Hueningkai hums and scribbles something down. “Kim Seungmin.” He shifts in place, picking at his hands and avoiding everyone’s eyes. 

“Kim Seungmin,” Hueningkai murmurs. He looks up. “I’d like you to come and meet me in the library. You got closest I’m assuming?”

Slowly, Seungmin nods. Hueningkai hums, scanning the notes he has before nodding back. 

“Well then,” Soobin says, looking around, “have we any more information?”

“They want to see you,” Jeongguk says. “Both of you. I know - I know it’s dangerous, but - but I think it’d be good for them. To feel as if you’re right there with them and to make sure everything is going as planned with the quarantine. Just a quick trip around the empire, a visit to each kingdom’s capital should do. I don’t know if everything’s been getting out either, so-”

“What do you think?” Soobin says to Yeonjun. “Sorry for interrupting,” he says to Jeongguk. 

Yeonjun frowns, tapping on his lower lip and weighing the pros and cons in his head. While Jeongguk is certainly right about it being good for them to see their people, he doesn’t-

“I forbid all of the children from leaving palace grounds, first of all,” he blurts. He hears a few mumbles of protest ripple through the council. “Do not argue with me. I want none of you to leave until we have defeated this beast and it no longer attacks our people. Also, make sure everyone stays within their towns and villages. There should be no unnecessary travel.” He bites his lip and turns to look at Soobin, then, trying to read his gaze. His husband’s eyes are carefully blank, as is his expression. Yeonjun supposes it’s to keep from influencing his decision. 

He turns to Minjun. The boy stares at him, his eyes somewhat pleading and nervous. Around him, the council appears to be holding its breath, waiting for his answer. His eyes dart to Seungmin, the boy who offered the answers, and he tries to guess his age. He’s just a little older than Minjun, maybe four or five years? He’s certainly quite young and definitely around the same age as he was when he first joined the rebellion. He frowns and drums his nails on the table, then makes his decision. 

“We'll leave as soon as possible.”


	5. Splitting Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun and Soobin set off to check on the kingdoms, entrusting their children to their friends. Certainly, nothing could go wrong, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhhh the new album is so good go stream i love all of it though stay and blue & grey are def my fav tracks

As expected, his decision once again throws the council into pandemonium. They turn to Soobin for help, demanding that he get Yeonjun to change his mind. The emperor simply allows his lips to turn up into a little secret smile, shared with his husband. 

He just wishes Minjun shared Soobin’s optimism. 

“You’re  _ leaving _ ?” the boy demands once they’re hidden from the rest of the council. Yeonjun stiffens. 

“They need to see us. To make sure-”

“No,” Minjun says. He scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. “You - what about Chan-ah?” 

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Yeonjun promises. Minjun’s scowl remains on his face. “Minjun-ah, people - out there, people are  _ dying _ .” 

“Your son needs you!” he hisses. “What - what do we do if it happens again?” 

“Your uncles will take care of you,” Yeonjun says. “I promise, Minnie, we’ll be back before anything happens. It won’t take long, all right? At most, we’ll be gone for a month. We’ll probably spend a day in each capital then leave, how does that sound?” 

“I don’t want you to go,” Minjun says. “What if something happens to you?”

“You’ll take over for us, of course,” Yeonjun says. He crouches down and offers a smile to his son. “It’s not - well, I suppose it’s quite far from what’s expected, but we always have to be prepared. On the off chance that anything  _ does _ happen, then you’ll have a great pack behind you. I promise.” 

“Eomma . . .” Minjun says, sniffling and wiping his nose, “I don’t want you guys to leave.” 

Yeonjun smiles at him, reaching up to wipe away the tears he doesn’t want to see. 

“Minnie-yah,” he says softly, “we won’t be gone long. Until then, we’ll make sure to write as often as possible, hm? How does that sound?” 

“Communications are down,” Minjun grumbles, wiping his eyes. “What if we don’t get them?” 

“We will,” Yeonjun says, though he doubts that’ll guarantee anything. Then again, it’s always nice to hear some sort of reassurances, even if they aren’t necessarily correct.

“Okay,” Minjun mumbles. Yeonjun smiles at him, standing and hugging him. He stands a bit on his tiptoes and rests his chin on his son’s head, closing his eyes and swaying silently with him as tears roll down his cheeks. Gods, he really,  _ really _ doesn’t want to leave now. Minjun will only be a kid for so long and who knows how long it is before he decides he hates him? Hopefully never, but doesn’t every parent have the tiniest slivers of worry about such things? Minjun is, after all, around that age. They at least have a better relationship than most royal families do, though that bar is rather low. Embarrassingly so. 

“Do you promise to return home as soon as you hear anything?” Minjun says softly. His head is pressed against Yeonjun’s chest and he’s nosing against the soft fabrics of his mother’s gown, trying to get as close as possible to the man. 

“I promise,” Yeonjun says softly. Gods, he really hopes he can keep it. 

They end up deciding to leave at the end of the week. They can’t be sure how long they’ll be away for, so it’s likely that they’ll be rewearing their clothes. Not that Yeonjun minds; back when he’d just escaped his first wedding, he had to wear the same clothes for days at their little campsite. It was the same when they were traveling through Ifan to defeat the emperor, though particularly common after Namjoon’s death. 

Yeonjun sighs, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. It’s dark though neither he nor Soobin are sleeping, but they haven’t yet taken up a conversation. He prays they don’t end up the same way Namjoon and Seokjin did. He doesn’t want to think about losing Soobin, or anyone, for that matter. 

“Hey,” Soobin whispers, shifting so he’s facing Yeonjun. The older man reciprocates, mirroring his actions and turning to stare at his husband. Soobin offers him a tired but fond smile as he reaches out to brush a strand of sapphire hair behind Yeonjun’s ear. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t worry,” Soobin says, though he knows such a thing is impossible for the both of them. “It - we’ll figure something out.” He pauses, looking pensive before he says, “Soon. We’ll figure something out soon.” 

Gods, Yeonjun sure hopes so. But he also feels like he has to specify that he and Soobin mean a cure or some sort of source so they can stop it, not something like finding out that there’s no way to stop the plague and the only thing that they can do is let it run its course until everyone builds up an immunity.

The next few days, as they prepare for their trip, are quite hectic. Seungmin becomes a sort of assistant to Hueningkai, trailing the man with a pair of round, silver-framed spectacles balancing precariously on his nose. Hoseok grows awfully fond of the boy and Bora seems to like him as well. He seems to silently integrate himself into the family, though it’s rather unspoken.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun wrestles with nightmares that come nearly every night. He wakes up gasping for air, clutching his throat to check for scars or bruises or blood. Whoever sends them certainly takes great joy in doing so, though Yeonjun can’t say that the feeling is mutual. Far from it, really, especially now that he has to prepare for a trip. 

The night before they leave, Yeonjun wakes up to an empty bed. He gets up, looking around with a frown on his face, before quietly padding out of the room. 

As per tradition, the palace has a mourning room. It’s where portraits of the dead are hung, though they aren’t restricted to such, and one may go to seek guidance from those lost. 

This is where Yeonjun finds Soobin. The man is crouched in front of the large portrait of Seokjin and Namjoon, their faces serious. A flickering candle is clutched in Soobin’s hands while a few around him are lit, soft murmurs filling the room. It smells of incense, sharp though comforting as Yeonjun inhales and allows the scent to fill his lungs. 

“Please, Hyungs,” Soobin whispers softly, “please, tell me what to do. I’m begging you.”

Yeonjun leans against the doorframe and stares at his husband. He’s outlived both Seokjin and Namjoon, though he’s still quite insistent on going to them for guidance. Then again, can anyone blame him? The two of them really had a huge part in building the foundation of his leadership abilities. Well, Soobin already had those, but Seokjin and Namjoon definitely helped him to find them. 

“Soobinnie?” Yeonjun says softly, once Soobin pauses. The Alpha looks over, smiling tiredly at him when he sees him. 

“Did I wake you when I left?” he says. Yeonjun shakes his head, humming as he walks over to kneel beside him. Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s portrait stares down at them, twin gazes serious. 

“No,” he murmurs, leaning his head on his shoulder. “I didn’t interrupt anyone, did I?” 

“No,” Soobin parrots back. “They haven’t - well, they don’t answer often. But this time-” he frowns, brow furrowing “-it feels as if something’s keeping them from answering.” 

“Do you think it has to do with the plague?” 

“Doesn’t everything nowadays?” Soobin says, laughing bitterly. He sighs, shaking his head. “It feels as if everything’s connected, but - well, we’re - we have to be missing something.” 

“Agreed,” Yeonjun murmurs. “But we’re trying. We  _ will _ figure something out and then this will just become another thing for the history books, hm?”

Soobin snorts, shaking his head. He looks up at the painting and sighs, shoulders slumping. 

“Do - do you think they’d - that they’d be proud of us? Of what we’ve done?” Soobin says, his voice soft and a bit scared.

“How could they not be?” Yeonjun says. He too looks up at the painting and smiles, leaning his head against the Alpha’s shoulder. “You - we’ve done so much and there’s so much to be proud of. Honestly, there’s something wrong with them if they aren’t proud. We’ve exceeded their expectations, don’t you think? And Jin-Hyung - before his disappearance, at least - was so proud of us. He established his school and he helped to spread his message and stories with our help. Don’t you think he was proud?” 

Soobin sniffles, laughing sadly as he continues to look at the portrait. “He did say it rather frequently,” he says. Yeonjun smiles, kissing Soobin’s cheek. 

“He did,” he says. “And Namjoon-Hyung told you he was so proud so many times, don’t you remember? Soobinnie, of course, they’re proud of us.” 

Soobin nods, smiling at him. Yeonjun reaches out and wipes some of his tears away with his thumb, clicking his tongue. Soobin laughs and gently grabs his wrist, pressing a kiss to the underside of it. Yeonjun snorts and shakes his head, though he’s unable to hide his smile. Maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

They leave early the next morning. Jihwan and Chan-Young are still asleep, the Minjun gets up to see them off with his uncles and older cousins. Well, Chae-Young is the same age as him, though she’s still in the “older” group of children.

“I’ll miss you,” Yeonjun murmurs, pressing Minjun to his chest. Minjun snorts though he can’t deny that he’s crying. His sniffles are enough proof of that. 

“Make sure to write, all right? Tell us as soon as you get there,” he says, squeezing his mother’s hands. Yeonjun laughs and kisses his forehead, allowing him to go to his father as he turns to his brother. Taehyun hugs him tightly, scenting him. 

“You gonna go and see Mother and Father?” he says. Yeonjun laughs. 

“I suppose I will,” he says. “What, want me to tell them you miss them?” 

Taehyun shakes his head. 

“No,” he says. His voice grows soft. “Just - just see if they’re all right, please? Make sure they’re safe, that they’re healthy. You know?” 

Yeonjun nods. He does, even if he hates it. He hates how he and Taehyun still feel the tiniest bits of guilt about their parents, no matter how terribly they were treated. That’s the catch of escape - no matter how much you hate them, there’s still the tiniest little thought in the back of your head, pleading with you desperately in hopes of getting you to care. Yeonjun will admit, there’s still a part of him that wishes they could have had a good relationship, though he knows it’s impossible. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says. He hugs his brother again. “Be careful, okay? Don’t leave the palace until we figure out what this monster is and have its head hanging on the wall. I don’t want any of you leaving until then.” 

“Sir, yes, sir!” Taehyun says jokingly. Yeonjun shakes his head as he moves onto Beomgyu, hugging his brother-in-law tightly and thanking him for looking after his children. Hoseok is next and the Omega pulls him close, telling him to be careful in a quiet whisper. 

“Hyung, don’t - don’t leave the carriage too often,” Hueningkai says when he gets to him. The empress hums and pulls him in for a hug. 

“I won’t, I promise,” he says. He glances over Hueningkai’s shoulder at Seungmin. “Take care of them, okay?”

“I know, don’t worry,” he says. “Go hug everyone else.” 

Yeonjun snorts, shaking his head as he bids goodbye to the rest of his friends and family. Jeongguk tells them to watch out and says that they’ll be making sure to keep tabs on the beast as best as they can, though they all know that something like that is going to be rather difficult. If no one can get close to it without dying, then tailing the monster is going to be  _ hell _ . 

“Thank you so much,” Yeonjun says, squeezing Yoongi’s hands. The other man shrugs. 

“I don’t mind,” he says. “Just stay safe, all right? Both of you.”

“How are Soobin’s visions?” Jimin says, his voice hushed. Yeonjun purses his lips. 

“Nothing,” he murmurs. “Don’t - I know neither of you would do this, but - well, he doesn’t like talking about it.”

Jimin and Yoongi both nod while Yoongi squeezes his hands again. 

“We’ll make sure Jihwan and Chan-Young know you said goodbye,” he says. 

“We both wrote them notes, could you give them to them? I don’t want them to think-”

“Appa, Eomma!” 

Yeonjun and Soobin and everyone else all look over to see Chan-Young and Jihwan running out of the palace. The two boys throw themselves at their parents, one per each person. Yeonjun presses Chan-Young to his chest, relief coursing through him. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, so he’s ecstatic to have a chance to say goodbye now that he’s gotten out of bed. 

“I love you,” he murmurs. Chan-Young snuggles closer to him. “I love you so much, Channie. Be good, all right? We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“How long?” Chan-Young says. Yeonjun bites his lip. “How long will you be gone?” 

“I don’t know,” he says. He tries to smile, crouching down so he’s eye-level with the boy. “But I promise we’ll try and get back as soon as possible.” 

“Pinky promise?” 

Yeonjun grins and holds his hand out. Chan-Young links their pinkies together and then kisses it, a little tradition made up by Bora when she was younger. Then, the little boy runs to his father, switching with Jihwan. 

“Hwan-ah, don’t cry,” Yeonjun says softly. He kisses his son’s forehead, pushing his hair away. “I promise we’ll return.” 

“But  _ when _ , Eomma?” he whines. “Appa said you guys could be gone for a - for a  _ month _ .” 

Yeonjun purses his lips. 

“Maybe,” he says. “But that’s only in the worst situation, all right? I promise - no,  _ double _ promise that we’ll be back before summer ends at least. You won’t even have time to miss us.” 

Jihwan still doesn’t look like he believes him and Yeonjun sighs, pulling the boy into his arms as he rests the side of his face on his head. He smells like roses. 

“I’m really sorry that we have to leave, sweetie,” he says softly. “I know you don’t like it, but I promise that it’ll be quick. As quick as we can be, yeah? We’ll make sure to write as often as possible, too. And you’ll have all of your uncles and cousins with you!” 

“Eomma,” Jihwan says quietly, “when are we going to be allowed to leave the palace again?” 

Yeonjun tenses. 

“When - when Uncle Jeonggukkie and everyone else says that all is well,” he eventually concedes after several moments of pensiveness. Jihwan rubs his cheek agains his chest, then looks up at his mother. 

“Will that be before or after you get back?” he says. 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” Yeonjun murmurs. Jihwan hums, disappointed, though he doesn’t make any further comments. 

“I love you,” Yeonjun says. Jihwan looks up at him, his smile a tad bit forced. Yeonjun’s heart aches in his chest.

“I love you too, Eomma!” he chirps before kissing his cheek. Yeonjun and Soobin then step back, holding hands and waving to their friends and family as they get into the carriage. Yeonjun can hear them all bidding farewell as they drive off, heading slowly through the city. 

It takes a few hours before they reach the gates of Dragon City. Yeonjun watches through a window, his chin resting on his palm as he does. Soobin is asleep and Yeonjun supposes it’d be in his best interest if he did the same, though he’s too on-edge to even attempt such a thing. 

“Gods, I hope everything will be okay,” he murmurs, softly so as not to wake Soobin. He sighs heavily through his nose and turns away from the window, leaning against the plush seat of the carriage. He closes his eyes and tries to calm his breathing, praying that he’ll be able to fall asleep. Preferably without having any nightmares, but hey, that feels a bit like he’s asking for too much.

Strangely enough, he sleeps somewhat peacefully. He doesn’t have any nightmares, though he doesn’t have anything pleasant to dream about. Then again, he supposes that’s pretty good. 

“We’ll rest here for the night, Majesties,” the carriage driver says. Yeonjun wakes slowly, prying his eyes open before yawning and stretching. Soobin is already awake and he offers him a hand as he gets out. Yeonjun smiles as he takes it, stepping carefully out of the carriage. They each grab their night bags and head into the inn, bowing at the keeper. She bows back at them quickly, handing them their key before they head upstairs. 

“Gods, I’m starving,” Yeonjun says after somewhat unpacking. Soobin laughs and lies down beside him, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. 

“Want to go get something to eat?” Soobin says. Yeonjun hums, shifting about and sitting up. 

“We should send the kids a letter to let them know that we’ve arrived,” he says. “We promised, remember?” 

Soobin nods as he gets up, walking to the bag.

“Do you want to use the same sheet or two different pieces of parchment?” he says. 

“I think two will be fine,” Yeonjun says. He searches through the desk until he finds two pieces of parchment, handing one to his husband as he begins to look for a quill. Soobin places one on the table before he begins writing his letter, Yeonjun following suit. 

“Once we’ve sent them, do you want to go get something to eat?” Soobin says. Yeonjun hums and nods, continuing to write. They finish a little while later and head downstairs to send them. They eat a light meal and then head back upstairs, both of them agreeing to go to sleep. 

“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” Soobin says softly. Yeonjun shifts, looking up at his husband. 

“We will,” he says. Soobin hums, continuing to comb his fingers through his hair. Yeonjun begins to draw idle shapes on Soobin’s chest, then begins counting and kissing the scars. 

“I think it’ll take a lot longer than we originally planned,” Soobin murmurs. When Yeonjun hums in question and stops kissing, he elaborates by saying, “The trip. The fog around the forest has yet to disappear and we’ve all decided that it’s too dangerous to attempt to go through. It’s likely that we’ll have to go around.” 

Yeonjun groans, burying his face in Soobin’s chest. Soobin snorts and shakes his head, kissing the top. Yeonjun sighs heavily. 

“Gods, I wish this would just let up so we could go back to the kids,” he grumbles. Soobin hums in agreement, nodding. “I miss them already.” 

“Me too,” Soobin says. He sighs, shaking his head. “I really thought that it’d all be over once we finished with the rebellion.” 

“Do you think a war would be better?” Yeonjun says. 

Soobin shrugs, shifting Yeonjun with the movement of his shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “At least we’d know that there’d be an end to it; with this . . . whatever, plague, infection, curse, we haven’t a single clue. We’re simply looking around, hoping to shed some sort of light on the situation.”

Yeonjun nods, shifting so his chin is closer to Soobin’s shoulder while the top of his head is nearly on the pillow. Soobin grunts in response and Yeonjun chuckles, shaking his head and nuzzling his cheek. 

“I’m scared for Minjun,” he says softly. “He - I think we’ve put a lot of pressure on him because of, well,  _ everything _ . It just - I feel as if he’s trying to prove that he’s - well, I don’t know.”

“You feel as if he’s trying to prove that he’s our son?” Soobin says. Yeonjun hums and nods. “Gods, I see myself reflected in him far more than I like. He’s just - I hate that he had to get that from me. He’s not - he always - I see what you’re saying. He wants to prove that he’s worth our affections, is that not what you meant?” 

Yeonjun hums again, sighing softly as he begins to trace idle drawings onto Soobin’s chest. 

“It worries me,” he says softly. “I don’t - I don’t want him to feel - to feel as if he has some sort of - some sort of . . . I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want him to ever think that we won’t love him as much as we do because he can’t . . . I don’t know, because he can’t measure up to what we’ve done in his own eyes.” 

“He’s going to be better than we are,” Soobin says softly as he twirls a strand of Yeonjun’s hair between his fingers. “All of them will be. They’re all going to do so much for this empire . . . I hope we can see as much as possible.” 

“When are you thinking of stepping down?” Yeonjun says. Soobin shrugs. 

“When are you?” he shoots back. Yeonjun mirrors his husband’s actions and shrugs back, sighing softly through his nose. Soobin continues to comb his hands through his hair, humming quietly to himself. 

“I think I’ll do it when we both agree that Minjun is ready. And when Minjun himself does, though I feel as if he’ll try and convince us to allow him to take over beforehand.” He pauses, thinking. “I don’t - I don’t believe it to be for some sort of ploy to get the crown, but I think he simply needs to validate himself in his own eyes.” 

“Agreed,” Yeonjun says. “Gods, I just wish - what did we do? How could we have avoided this with him?” 

“I think he simply developed it on his own,” Soobin says after a few moments of silence. “He didn’t - no one can say that, in thirty some years, you and I have both done much more than what is expected of someone within our age range. Naturally, children tend to feel as if the shadows of their parents are rather . . . or, well-”

“-they feel as if they need to break free from them? From us?” Yeonjun says. Soobin nods and Yeonjun sighs. 

“I mean, I can’t say I blame him for feeling that way,” Yeonjun finally says. He shakes his head, looking up at Soobin who looks down. “I just - I simply wish that there was a better way.” 

Soobin hums and nods, then he sighs softly. 

“We should go to sleep soon,” he says. Yeonjun nods in agreement.

“We should,” he says, yawning at the end of his sentence. Soobin coos at him and kisses his nose, drawing a grunt of protest from his husband. They mess around for a bit more, though it isn’t long before their exhaustion gets the best of the both of them and they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Yeonjun has a sickening feeling in his stomach when he opens his eyes and finds himself in a forest. His heart pounds in his chest as mist begins to shroud him, hiding everything from view. He gets to his feet and begins to walk, though his pace speeds up to a run at the sound of something approaching him. He crashes through the trees, fear getting the best of him and stealing any sort of grace he might’ve had before. 

Gasping, Yeonjun falls forward and holds his arms out to catch himself. He screams shrilly when he feels something shift beneath him, a black, inky, tar-like liquid beginning to crawl up his arms. He scrambles away and claws at the substance, some of which has covered his skin and begins to burn like acid. Yeonjun shrieks as it sizzles against his skin, reaching up to his face against his better judgment to claw it away. Some of it gets in his eyes and the empress cries out, stumbling about. It burns as it covers him, crawling up his clothes and legs and arms. His hair is sticky with it and his hands press against his skin, his skirts clumping together.

None of it matters to Yeonjun, though. He continues to move through the forest, stumbling through the trees without any idea of where he is. His eyes are burning and he can’t see a thing, though he can certainly smell his burning flesh and hear his pursuer. 

As the sound of rushing water gets nearer, Yeonjun is tackled to the ground. The man shrieks in response and tries to roll onto his back, clawing at his attacker. A reptilian hiss breaks through his cries as he thrashes about and scaled hands pin his wrists to the ground. Yeonjun kicks his legs and shakes in place, continuing to scream. He can feel the hot breath of the reptile above him, tickling his face. The scent of smoke fills his lungs and Yeonjun begins to cough, his eyes stinging from the smoke. 

“Help!” he cries. “Help me, please!” 

Whatever is above him only tightens its grip on his wrists and hushes him, scaly tail slithering over his legs. A hand presses against Yeonjun’s lips and muffles his cries, keeping his protests from escaping.

Nonetheless, the ruler continues to struggle. 

“Help!” he tries again, despite how the words are muffled. “Help me, please!” 

His captor is taken by surprise when he jerks his knee, having been distracted by his continuous cries. Yeonjun scrambles away and falls into the stream, water splashing him. It gets in his eyes and then, suddenly, his vision begins to return. Yeonjun rubs his eyes with his hands and pants, staring fearfully at the strange sort of man-dragon before him. His eyes are big and golden, slit pupils rounding out. He looks quite crazed, his black hair tangled and his clothes torn. Yeonjun can see he must’ve been quite attractive before whatever happened to him, from the sharp cuts of his face and jawline to his plush lips and well-muscled body. Huge, black wings cover him while smooth horns push through the top of his head, scales decorating his skin. He’s drooling, his chest heaving as he glares at Yeonjun through crazed eyes. He lunges into the water, then, huge wings opening as he snatches Yeonjun up. 

It is then that he wakes. Yeonjun gasps, his wrists aching with the ghost sensation of clawed hands wrapped around them. He touches his face, his eyes, with gentle, fearful hands, looking around the darkened room of the inn. His eyes greedily drink in the soft, warm light of the melting candle on one of the desks and the image of his sleeping husband, face cushioned by his arms. He’s using his cloak as a blanket and Yeonjun sighs, shaking his head as he gets to his feet and walks over. 

“Soobin,” he whispers, gently shaking his shoulder. “Soobin-ah, wake up. You can’t sleep here, you’ll have cramps on the carriage ride.” 

His husband groans softly, the sound muffled by his arms as he slowly gets up and stretches. Decorating his face are a myriad of marks from the folds in his pajamas, and his eyes are droopy while his expression is dazed. Yeonjun smiles at him. 

“Soobinnie, let’s go back to bed,” he says. Soobin hums and nods, slowly standing up and padding slowly to the bed. Yeonjun muffles his laughter behind his hand before he blows out the candle, climbing under the covers beside Soobin. 

However, just as he begins to close his eyes, a voice breaks through the sleep-induced haze of his mind. 

**“Did you enjoy meeting my son?”**

Yeonjun doesn’t sleep any more that night. Instead, he lies awake in bed, tossing and turning as he tries to clear his mind. The thought wanders about, coming up with as many scenarios as possible. There’s something that’s been sending him these dreams, tormenting him, and he suspects it has something to do with the plague. But knowing that it has a son . . . gods, Yeonjun just wishes he knew what was going on.

“Ugh, I think I’m going to pass out,” Yeonjun says as he and Soobin walk slowly down the stairs to get breakfast. It’s before dawn, the stars still twinkling in the sky, and Yeonjun has hardly slept at all. 

“Just eat some breakfast and then you can sleep on the way there,” Soobin says gently. Yeonjun hums, nodding sleepily as he sits down. Their food is brought over and they eat quietly, watching the door to see any other guests. However, it remains shut. 

“It’s nice to see that people are staying inside,” Yeonjun says. Soobin turns and looks over his shoulder, then he turns back to Yeonjun and nods. 

“It’s relieving, too,” he says. “Though I hope that doesn’t mean that a lot of people have had to deal with it.” 

Yeonjun nods back, continuing to eat. They leave not long after, heading into the carriage. Yeonjun presses himself against Soobin and closes his eyes, sighing softly. 

“Wake me up if anything happens, all right?” he says. Soobin hums, continuing to look through the papers. He also has a map resting by his side, jostled every so often by the bumps in the dirt road upon which they ride. Yeonjun squeezes his eyes shut and snuggles closer to Soobin, shifting under his cloak. The warming air of spring sneaks in through the open windows of the carriage, brushing past the soft curtains to tickle Yeonjun and Soobin within their little vehicle. Soobin adjusts his arm and leans his head against the older’s, stroking the skin of his arm. Yeonjun smiles, snuggling closer and bringing his legs up to rest on the bench. 

He assumes he falls asleep because he’s later woken by Soobin gently shaking him. Yeonjun stretches and accidentally hits him, drawing a laugh from Soobin. 

“Are we - are we getting out now?” he says, stopping to yawn. Soobin nods. 

“We’ll be at the forest by tomorrow, so we’ll have to make our decision on whether or not we want to risk going through. It’s faster, obviously, but more dangerous. I guess we’ll see.” 

Yeonjun hums, nodding and shrugging a bit at the same time. 

“I guess we will,” he says. 

It’s somewhat peaceful. The night they spend at the second inn, that is. They have yet to hear back from their children, though Yeonjun and Soobin tell both themselves and each other that it’s only because they’ve been traveling all day. He really hopes that’s the case and he really wishes he could guarantee it.

Once again, as they approach the forest, a soft mist begins to reach for them. Its outstretched hands are their first greetings, appearing even before the giant, looming trees do. But they begin to enter areas more thickly wooded, a clear sign of how close they are to the Deep Forest. 

“Your Imperial Majesties?” someone says after the carriage stops. Yeonjun and Soobin both frown, grabbing cloaks to cover their faces. “You - why are you here?” 

Carefully, they both get out of the carriage. Outside, a heavy fog surrounds them all, though even that can’t block out the dark silhouettes of the trees. The soldier before them is completely covered, making it impossible for either ruler to tell their identity. Not that it matters, really, as it’s not like they’re going to sit down for tea together or something. 

“Did our message not go through?” Yeonjun says, frowning. His voice is muffled by his cloak and he looks around, squinting in the fog. Soobin wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him close and pressing him against his body. 

“Apparently not,” the soldier says. They shift in place, armor making soft clinking noises when they do. “Is it for the plague?” 

“It is,” Soobin says. “How are things out here, though? Anything new?” 

“Not that we can see,” the soldier says. “How is everyone? Are they safe?”

Yeonjun and Soobin both shift their weight on their feet. Yeonjun moves his cloak a bit. 

“Our communications seem to be down,” he says quietly, hoping the fur of his cloak doesn’t muffle his words to the extent that they’re inaudible, “so . . . we don’t really know. We’re hoping to get to all of the kingdoms to see how things are and to send some - I mean, sorry, I mean to write down what they need and try to get it there.”

The soldier nods then turns to look over their shoulder. 

“Well,” they say, “I don’t think that you’ll be able to get through this mess. It’s rather impenetrable. Too dangerous for you two.” 

Soobin nods, reaching out to squeeze the soldier’s hand. 

“Thank you,” he says. “We hope to find a way to get you back to your original post as soon as possible.” 

The soldier shrugs, waving at them as they head back into the carriage and close the doors. Yeonjun makes sure the windows are shut tightly, keeping any of the fog from sneaking in. 

“I really hope we can figure something out soon,” Soobin says quietly, a little after they’ve begun to move. Yeonjun hums, nodding. He reaches out to grab his hand, squeezing gently. Soobin offers him a smile, though it falls short of his eyes. Yeonjun’s heart aches at that. 

“We will,” he says. Maybe if they keep telling themselves that, the cure and all of the answers will come faster. Who knows?

“Do you think we will?” Soobin says. “Honestly? Do you - do you really think it’s possible to stop this?” 

“It has to be,” Yeonjun says, though he and Soobin both know very well that it doesn’t. “There’s got to be an answer out there. Somewhere.” 

Soobin hums, though it’s quite clear that he’s still not convinced. Then again, neither of them really are, so Yeonjun supposes that they’re both viewing it the same way. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to at least  _ try _ to find something.

“We’ll figure it out,” Yeonjun says. “Promise.” 

Soobin hums and nods, and Yeonjun can only sigh softly. He doubts even Chan-Young would believe him if he said that. 

Speaking of which, Yeonjun really wishes he could hear back from his children. It’s stressing him out a  _ lot _ that he doesn’t know what’s going on with them, and an irrational part of his brain is insisting that they turn back to check on them. But he also doesn’t want to increase their chances of getting sick or attacked, so he thinks and knows that it’s safer for them back at the palace (or so he hopes). 

Yeonjun shakes his head at himself and shifts a bit, leaning his head on Soobin’s shoulder. The Alpha rests his hand in his husband’s lap and Yeonjun begins to twist the wedding ring around, slow movements that begin to lull him to sleep. 

He wakes with a crick in his neck, but that’s to be expected. Slowly, sleepily, Yeonjun tries to blink himself awake. Soobin is still fast asleep beside him.

“W-where are we?” he mumbles. He looks around and sits up, being careful to maneuver Soobin so his head is in his lap. “Excuse me?” 

[ _ Blue & Grey _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amnspvOH-EE)

“We still have a few more hours until we reach the first kingdom,” the carriage driver calls. Yeonjun hums and nods, sitting back with a soft sigh. He looks down at Soobin and feels a smile tickling his lips, gently beginning to card his fingers through his hair. Soobin’s nose twitches in retaliation, though Yeonjun can only chuckle quietly to himself, shaking his head fondly. 

The hours do not pass quickly. Yeonjun ends up reaching over Soobin to snag one of the books, lifting it up and flipping through. He skims the pages, mostly focused on the comforting feeling of the pages between his fingertips. He isn’t quite sure what exactly the book is about, though he enjoys the gentle script of the author. His own isn’t nearly as nice - Yeonjun is known for his hurriedness and how it’s reflected in his handwriting, something he was often reprimanded for as a child. 

_ Gods, _ he thinks to himself, looking up but continuing to hold the book open,  _ I’ll be seeing Mother and Father. Surely they know who Taehyun and I are now. They must. _

He sighs, chewing on his lip and turning to look out the window. Being as careful as possible, his eyes continuing to dart down to Soobin to make sure he’s still asleep, Yeonjun leans forward and opens one of the windows. The warming air of spring tickles his skin and he lets his cloak fall from his shoulders, moving it so it’s draped over Soobin like a blanket. 

Slowly, the sun begins to fall beneath the horizon. Yeonjun watches it, growing tired as its golden light begins to seep into the darkening blanket of night. He sighs softly and closes his eyes, leaning against the carriage door.

“Are we almost there?” Soobin murmurs, his eyes still closed. Yeonjun hums, shrugging as he continues to comb his fingers through Soobin’s hair. By now, the movement is simply subconscious. 

“I think we might be,” he says. He turns and looks back at the sunset, the last, stubborn bits of light continuing to tickle the edges of the sky. “The sun has nearly finished setting. We’ve been traveling for a day now.” 

“I think we might just keep traveling. The southern kingdom is closer than its counterpart to the west, so I believe that’s where we’re headed. Do you remember?” 

Yeonjun shrugs again, smiling down at Soobin and brushing a curl of hair behind his ear.

“Nope,” he says. “Not one bit.” 

Soobin snorts and shakes his head, sighing. Yeonjun flicks him in the forehead in retaliation and they proceed to playfully bicker the rest of the ride, the sound of their talking filling up the carriage. 

“Do you think the kids are okay?” Yeonjun says, having repositioned himself so he’s leaning against Soobin, an arm wrapped around him. 

Soobin hums, tracing circles around over his husband’s stomach. 

“Yes,” he says, nodding his head, “I know they are.” 

Yeonjun frowns and chews on his lower lip, worry continuing to haunt him. He’s certain that Soobin can tell and his suspicions are confirmed when a gentle flurry of soft butterfly kisses find home on his neck. 

“Do you want to know how I know?” Soobin murmurs against his skin, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. Yeonjun nods, continuing to chew on his lower lip. “First of all, they have the entire pack to take care of them. There’s no way they can get out of anyone’s sight, even if it  _ is _ a palace.” He nuzzles the side of Yeonjun’s face, blowing a playful raspberry. Yeonjun half-heartedly shoves him away. “Also, don’t you think we would’ve heard  _ something _ by now? If anything bad had happened, there would definitely be human messengers running all around.”

“You don’t know that,” Yeonjun says. Soobin hums and shakes his head. 

“Well, neither do you,” he says. “And you’re just as deep into the dark as I am when it comes to what they’re doing. Who knows? Maybe there’s a poor little messenger dragon chasing us with three letters tied to its feet.” 

The moment Soobin’s mouth closes, or perhaps even a little before, a dragon bursts through the open window of the carriage and collapses on the floor. Just as Soobin had said, there are three envelopes tied to its feet. It flounders about on the ground until Yeonjun leans down and lifts it into his arms, gently untying the letters. The dragon chirps angrily, though the sound fades into a purr when Soobin begins to scratch behind its ears. There are three letters, one from each child. Yeonjun’s hands shake as he picks them up and unrolls them all, his heart pounding so harshly against his ribcage that he’s certain Soobin can hear. 

“Read-read them together?” he says. He prepares for the worst, trying to school himself into calmness lest he somehow damages the letters. 

Soobin smiles at Yeonjun, nodding and rubbing his hip. Yeonjun shivers as he opens the first, a smile tickling the corners of his lips at the sight of Chan-Young’s carefully printed script. There are pictures doodled in the margins, some of which Yeonjun is unable to discern or name. 

_ Eomma, Appa, _ _   
_ _ Where are you? We miss you. Are you okay? What’s going on? How are things? Are you coming back soon? Hyungie’s birthday is coming up. What am I getting for my birthday? What’s going on? Minnie-Hyung says that I have to actually say stuff. He’s helping me write the  _ _ li _ _ letter. Sarang-Noona is teaching everyone how to draw  _ _ good _ _ well. Love you! _ _   
_ _ -Channie xoxoxo _ _   
_ _ P.S. - Minnie-Hyung said to tell you that I’m okay and I’ve been sleeping. _

“Oh, thank the gods,” Yeonjun says, pressing the letter to his chest. He can smell Chan-Young, the faintest hints of their son’s scent dancing over the paper. It’s mixed in with tiny, barely-there traces of lotus flowers from Minjun, though Yeonjun greedily sucks the scents into his lungs. It makes him wonder if his children are really the ones who need him, or if it’s the other way around.

“See?” Soobin says softly, having read over his shoulder. He reaches around and squeezes one of Yeonjun’s hands. “They’re okay. Don’t you think Channie would’ve said something about being hurt?”

Yeonjun nods, wiping his eyes. Gods, he’s such a mess. When did he even start crying?

“Everything’s all right,” he tells himself, the words hiding under his breath. Nonetheless, his hands shake violently as he reaches for the second letter, unrolling it with the help of his husband. He wants to make a joke about getting old, to invoke some laughter from Soobin, but he’s far too nervous. 

_ Dear Eomma and Appa, _ Jihwan’s letter begins and Yeonjun wants to sob because he simply misses his children far too much. 

_ Dear Eomma and Appa, _ _   
_ _ How are you? All of us are fine, don’t worry, ‘cause I know Appa’s probably worried. And you too, Eomma, but you’re better at not stressing out. But Appa, make sure you guys stay on track. Eomma, don’t get too distracted, please and thank you, we miss you lots. Also, can we go outside soon? And am I going to have a birthday party this year? Uncle Hyun says he doesn’t know and Uncle Yoongi told me to prepare for going birthday party free this year. It’s okay if I can’t have one, but can I still get presents? _ _   
_ _ Love, _ _   
_ _ -Jihwannie _

Yeonjun snorts and wipes his eyes with his hand, shaking his head. Gods, Jihwan’s managed to translate his personality into a letter and now Yeonjun misses him even more. He wishes he could go home. 

“See? They’re okay,” Soobin says softly, though this time it’s more obvious that he’s also trying to reassure himself instead of just Yeonjun. He wishes he could go home right now and hug all three of his sons as tightly as possible and never have to worry about letting go of them. 

Alas, such a thing isn’t and never has been an option for Yeonjun. And he doubts it ever will be. To be honest, though, he really just wants to protect all three of his sons from every little danger. He wants to fight their battles for them and always win, he wants to stop their tears before they can fall, he wants to hide them away from all of the problems in the world and to keep the curtains drawn over the ugliness in which they live, keeping them in their childish illusion forever. 

“Yeonjun? Jjunie?” Soobin says gently, nudging him with his elbow. Yeonjun startles out of his thoughts and then tries to offer a tired smile. 

“Sorry,” he says, picking up Minjun’s letter. Soobin shakes his head and pats his hand, gesturing at him to open it. 

_ Dear Eomma and Appa,  _ _   
_ _ Don’t worry, both of you, because all of us are fine. Uncle Beomgyu told me to remind you not to go through the forest, so I hope this gets to you before then. Everything in the palace is the same as when you left, so don’t worry about that. We’re still working on figuring out what’s going on and no, none of us have gone into the infirmary. Chan-ah has been fine, though he sometimes comes to sleep in my room. He and Jihwan both miss you guys a lot, and they both told me to tell you to come home because they think you’ll listen. Please stay safe, okay? I love you. _ _   
_ __ -Minjun

Yeonjun holds the letter so tightly that it begins to crumple around his fists. He lets go only after he looks down and notices it, smoothing out the piece of parchment with nervous, jerky movements. Soobin looks worriedly at him and reaches out to cover Yeonjun’s hands with his own, gently rubbing the skin there. Yeonjun looks up at him and then, all of a sudden, a dam seems to break as his face scrunches up and tears fall from his eyes. Soobin opens his arms to him and Yeonjun collapses forward, sobbing loudly into his husband’s chest. 

“Sshh, sshh,” Soobin murmurs into his hair, “it’ll be alright. Everything’s going to be just fine.” 

Yeonjun ends up crying himself to sleep. And he’s foolish to have thought that whoever’s tormenting him would stop because they were traveling and it simply couldn’t get a hold of him. 

As per usual, Yeonjun awakens in a field. He jerks to “consciousness”, looking around with wide eyes. There’s always a sort of spotlight over him, but, this time, Yeonjun is in the darkness. He gets to his feet, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head as the dirt falls gently from his hair to the ground. It clumps up around his feet and only then does Yeonjun realize that he’s risen from the ground, having been buried beneath the flowers. 

“Hyung!” 

Yeonjun stiffens, turning toward the sound of the voice. He sees Taehyun, then, his younger brother staring worriedly at something Yeonjun has yet to notice. There’s the sound of something dripping, the quiet splash cutting sharply through the silence of the field. Not even the shyest of breezes dares to rustle the flowers. 

“Hyung!” breaks through again, but it’s far quieter than its predecessor. Yeonjun opens his mouth to call out to Taehyun, to say that he’s right here, but then Taehyun begins to walk. This walk turns into a jog and Yeonjun watches as he moves into the center of the field. 

There, Yeonjun sits. Or, at least some sort of counterpart. His chin rests on his chest and his neck is slit, violet blood dripping slowly from the wound. It’s on his hands too, though the heavy-looking crown of varied purple flowers that rests atop his head remains wholly untouched. Taehyun looks horrified as he steps back, the soft, nearly inaudible sound of some sort of liquid moving following him. 

“. . . Hyung?” 

It’s whispered this time, and Yeonjun has to strain his ears to hear. However, he loses focus on that at the sound of a rumbling growl. Taehyun’s head jerks and he looks around, fear painting his features. Then, he catches sight of something Yeonjun has yet to see, his eyes growing as big as saucers as his jaw drops. There’s another growl, this one much,  _ much _ closer than the other, and Taehyun screams. 

“-up, wake up, Yeonjun!” someone says as they shake the empress. Yeonjun sits up, rubbing his eyes and looking around. He catches sight of Soobin and remembers that they’re going on a trip around the empire and that everyone is back in the palace, safe (or so he thinks) from any harm. 

“Where - where are we?” Yeonjun says. He runs a hand through his hair. “What time is it?” 

Soobin looks around grimly, gesturing to one of the windows. 

“We’ve reached the southern kingdom,” he says, his voice matching his expression. He carefully pulls back the curtains. “Say hello to your childhood home.”


	6. Hacking Up a Lung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun and Soobin continue to travel throughout the empire, though it isn't exactly pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, two things: one, the new album BE is great and two, 'The Queen's Gambit' is an awesome show and Beth lowkey reminds me of Yeosang

It is very nearly impossible to tell the difference from when he was a child and now. 

_ Well, I suppose everything seems a bit smaller, _ Yeonjun thinks grimly. He thinks he laughs a bit at the internal comment, but not enough that Soobin notices. 

“How long has it been?” Soobin says quietly. 

“Ten years at least,” Yeonjun says. He knows they left when he was twenty and Soobin was nineteen, so it’s been- 

“Nearly seventeen years,” Soobin breathes. Yeonjun nods, staring out at the empty city streets. They make his stomach churn and dredge up old memories of running about beneath a burning sun and hiding behind the market stalls. 

“We’ve been gone for so long,” he says. Soobin hums from beside him, nodding along. Yeonjun sighs and shakes his head, sitting back so he no longer looks out at his old city. 

“I wonder what Mother and Father will think,” he says, mostly to himself. Soobin reaches for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly and offering him a gentle smile. Yeonjun tries returning it, though his nerves surely make it into more of a grimace than a smile. Soobin, to his credit, doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Here we are, Your Imperial Majesties,” the carriage driver says as he opens the door. Soobin gets out first and then turns around to help Yeonjun, offering a hand to his husband. 

“Here we are,” Yeonjun says under his breath as he looks up at the castle. “Gone to see the people who tried to kill both of us.” 

Soobin snorts and shakes his head. 

“Well, it’s not as if they have any heirs to take over. We’ll probably have to assign someone for them sooner or later.” 

Yeonjun hums, nodding as they slowly begin to walk toward the doors. Their shoes make soft sounds as they go over the stone pathway, cutting through the otherwise silent city. Instinctively, Yeonjun clings tighter to Soobin, the quiet making him uneasy. 

“Their Imperial Majesties, Choi Soobin and Choi Yeonjun!” someone bellows at the top of his lungs when Yeonjun and Soobin get to the door. The couple looks around when the doors remain closed, both of them frowning. 

Then, very slowly, they open. A small boy scuttles out, clearly no older than Minjun. He looks closer to Jihwan’s age, though he’s definitely not as young as Chan-Young. Nonetheless, Yeonjun thinks of all of his sons and feels himself tense, looking nervously at the boy. 

“The - the king - queen - the king and queen are - are sick, Your Imperial Majesties,” the boy stammers quickly, his eyes trained on his feet. Yeonjun gapes at him as Soobin nods and thanks him, sending him back inside. 

“What the hell?” Yeonjun says, a bit breathless. Soobin hums. 

“Are you going to be okay?” he says. Yeonjun closes his mouth then opens it again, then he closes it. He repeats this once or twice before pursing his lips and sighing as he shakes his head. 

“I don’t . . . I don’t know?” he says. “I mean, yeah, of course, they did all of these shitty things to us - you, me, Taehyun, and Beomgyu - but they’re still my parents. Taehyun and I were talking about it early, about how we don’t want to have a relationship with them but we - we still want them to be okay. And, I mean, I guess we’re always going to have the tiniest, flickering instinct to care for them, even if we shouldn’t and they have no right to request it.” He sighs again, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I don’t know.” 

“How do you feel about it?” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun shrugs and sits back, turning to look out the window as they begin to move away from the palace. 

“Empty,” he says. “I mean, not to be repetitive, I don’t know. I was certainly very surprised by it, but now that I’ve kind of gotten over that initial shock, I’m just . . . I don’t know what to feel.” 

Soobin hums, nodding. 

“Would anyone?” he says. Yeonjun snorts. 

“Unlikely,” he says. He sighs and chews on his lip. “Do you think Dae-Jung-Hyung and Hanna-Noona are both okay?” 

“Yeah, hopefully.” This time, Soobin sighs and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. “I just wish we could still  _ communicate _ with each other. It’d be much less worrying if we could send constant messages to keep everyone updated.” 

“I wish we could figure out what was causing this,” Yeonjun says. He sighs and shakes his head. “We’d have to go by boat to get to Aestrath, then we’d have to try and go through their records.”

“Imagine trying to convince them to let us do  _ that _ ,” Soobin says. He laughs a bit, playing with one of Yeonjun’s curls. Yeonjun lies with his head on his husband’s lap, shifting a bit and wincing when his hair is pulled.

“Military force,” he murmurs. “In a time such as this, though, it doesn’t seem to be a very good idea.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” Soobin says. He sighs. “I still - well, I don’t know. Do you feel as if they are the cause of this? The immigrants, that is.” 

“No,” Yeonjun says. “It - it doesn’t feel like they are.” He frowns, chewing on his lower lip. 

“It feels unnatural,” Soobin says from above him. “I was talking about it with Huening and he told me that it feels more like magic than an actual plague or anything, though it seems to have been designed to appear that way on the outside. He thinks - he says he thinks it might be some sort of curse.” 

Yeonjun frowns and shifts, rolling onto his back so he’s looking up at Soobin. 

“A what?” he says. “A curse? But from whom? And why? And how do we get rid of it?” 

Soobin shrugs, continuing to play with his hair. 

“Those are the questions we’re all asking, aren’t they?” he says. “Everyone wants to know where it’s from and why it’s here and how to get rid of it. We just have to keep looking, I suppose.” 

Yeonjun sighs and shakes his head, lying back and staring at the ceiling. He grunts a little when the carriage rolls over some sort of bump in the road, sighing in annoyance.

“We should write to the kids,” he says idly. He begins to play with his necklace. “Taehyun will probably want to know that Mother and Father are sick.” 

“Mm. Let’s hope the inns haven’t all been converted into hospitals.” 

“Into what?” Yeonjun says, sitting up and hitting his forehead on Soobin’s chin. They both wince and rub the injured areas, though Soobin still tries to answer. 

“Yoongi-Hyung said he heard about people doing that,” he says. “I mean, the last time we stopped for the night, we stayed in one, but who knows what could have changed while we were traveling? Let’s just hope they have somewhere we can go that’s uninfected.” 

Yeonjun nods, drumming his nails on the plush seat. Despite all of the pillows, his butt is still a bit sore from sitting down for so long. Then again, he knows it could be worse, as he’s had to spend an entire day in a cart going through a forest. It was a pretty common occurrence during the war. 

“We’re going to need to name our rebellion,” Yeonjun suddenly says. Soobin looks over at him and tilts his head. 

“Name the . . . rebellion?” he says. “Excuse me, could you say that again?” 

“We have to name our rebellion, Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun says. “I can bet you that they’ll probably call it something stupid if we don’t step in. We have to make sure we go down in history with a good name.” 

Soobin laughs a bit, shaking his head. 

“Gods, I wish I knew what was going on inside of your head,” he says fondly. Yeonjun laughs and grins at him, earning himself another head-shake. 

“Well?” he says. “We can always ask the kids, but we should start discussing now.”

“Isn’t Minjun the one who named Channie?” Soobin says instead of answering the question. Yeonjun hums and nods, reaching instinctively for his stomach. Minjun had been over the moon at the idea of another little brother or sister and had rattled off names for his parents to use. 

“Mm, yes,” he says. “Jihwan wasn’t very interested in having a younger sibling. Minnie was . . . eight when I got pregnant.” 

“He turned nine a little after,” Soobin says. Yeonjun hums and nods, leaning his head on his shoulder. Gods, is Minjun fifteen already? And then Jihwan is eight, though he’ll be turning nine in a month or so. Chan-Young was born in January, and Minjun is a March birthday. 

“Gods, I’m getting so old,” Yeonjun grumbles, pressing his fingers to his forehead and shaking his head. “So many birthdays to remember. There’s yours, Hyungs’, dongsaengs’, and all of the kids’. Goodness.” 

“You’re not that old,” he says. “Don’t say that, it makes  _ me _ feel old. And Yoongi-Hyung and Taetae-Hyung and Jimin-Hyung will all be yelling if you say that around them.” 

“Oh, I won’t, I won’t,” Yeonjun says. He grins and winks at his mate, drawing a snort from the other man. “I bet you’d be a sexy ahjussi, though.” 

Soobin covers his mouth with his hand as he begins to laugh, keeling over. Yeonjun grins at him, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Oh - oh my  _ gods _ ,” Soobin wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Hyung - Yeonjunie, honey, you can’t just say things like that. We aren’t - love, we’re in our thirties. We can’t act like we’re still children.” 

“Why not?” Yeonjun says. He shrugs. “I’m telling you, you’re going to be a super sexy ahjussi. Not like the old, wrinkly kind that resemble fingers pruned from being in the water too long, oh, no, you’ll be-”

“Ah, look, we’re here!” Soobin says just as the carriage pulls to a stop. He clambers toward the door and Yeonjun grunts in annoyance, kicking him in the leg. “Time to stop talking, dear.” 

The door opens, then, and Soobin stumbles forward. He would’ve fallen too if not for Yeonjun’s hand jerking out and grabbing the back of his shirt. He tugs him back in as the driver stares nervously at them, looking around. 

“Your Imperial Majesties,” he says, looking at them with a sort of fearful expression as if he thinks they might bite him, “but, uh, well, it appears that we’ll have to . . . that we’ll have to, um, well, that we’ll have to turn around to leave the city.” 

“What?” Yeonjun and Soobin say together, both of them wearing matching frowns. 

“What - what’s going on? Why?” Soobin says. Yeonjun, meanwhile, crawls over to the other side of the carriage and pushes the curtains away from the window, looking through the glass and continuing to frown. The expression deepens, though, when he sees what’s outside. 

Two large carts block the road, though that’s far from the worst of it; what alarms Yeonjun the most are the dead bodies (or so he hopes and thinks) lying on the streets, flies buzzing about nearby. They’re all covered in black spots, their heads lolling back. One of them that isn’t so dead afterall suddenly turns and looks at Yeonjun, locking gazes with the startled empress. The whites of their eyes are encroached upon by black and red tendrils, yellowed saliva dripping down the sides of their face. Their teeth are blackened and their lower lip is split down the middle, blood aged brown painting the space between their nose and their lips. They gape at Yeonjun, desperately trying to say something, though not a single sound comes out. Yeonjun feels a burst of energy as he shoves the curtains closed and jerks away from the window. 

“What is it? Are you okay?” Soobin says, looking over at him. Yeonjun shakes his head and waves his hand, though his eyes remain trained on his feet. He pants, shutting his eyes and trying to clear the image from his mind. 

“It - that’s where they’re keeping all of the infected,” the carriage driver says. He shifts to look around Soobin and at Yeonjun. “I’m guessing you saw one of them?” 

“They - they’re just - just leaving them out on the - on the streets?” Yeonjun says. The carriage driver nods, shifting a bit. Yeonjun shivers and hugs himself. “Do - we have to help them.” 

“Would you like me to turn around and start heading . . . east?” the carriage driver says. Yeonjun and Soobin both nod, though Yeonjun doesn’t even look up as the boy walks off and Soobin closes the door. 

“How would we help them?” Soobin says. 

“Any way we can,” Yeonjun says. “Soobin, we can’t - these are our people. We have to do whatever we can to make sure as many of them survive as possible.” 

“I know,” Soobin says. “But we don’t - we haven’t a single - there aren’t any leads on how to cure it. For now, I guess, all that we can do is try and make sure the people who are okay stay that way.” 

Yeonjun sighs, then he nods because he supposes Soobin’s right. There really isn’t much that they can do other than protect everyone who’s still healthy. 

Their trip continues, though not as planned. It’s nearly impossible to write, especially since they only have inkwells and quills, so both Soobin and Yeonjun decide to wait until they get to the next rest stop. The carriage continues moving through the night, bumbling along through the large fields surrounding the southern capital. Yeonjun sighs and closes his eyes, shifting about on the bench. He tugs his legs up and drapes himself over the seat, using his cloak as a blanket and cushioning his head with his arms. 

The nightmare slithers into his mind and wraps itself around Yeonjun like some sort of sick, demented snake. He’s running this time, though the body in which he resides is not his own; instead of two legs, Yeonjun bounds through a field with four, the soft sound of his panting being the only thing his over-sensitive ears can manage to catch. Well, that and the sound of his movements breaking through the field. The flowers are crushed easily beneath his paws and Yeonjun can smell them, the sweet scents of violets and pansies filling his nose. It makes him feel nauseous and only then does he realize he’s stopped. Quickly, he shakes his head and then the rest of his body, tugging himself free from the vines that already have begun their journeys up his legs. 

Quickly, Yeonjun continues to run. His ears press against his head and his tongue hangs out from between his jaws, though Yeonjun hardly has the presence of mind to notice either of those things. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s running from, though he’s quite certain that he doesn’t want to become its next victim. 

“Taehyun-ah!” a voice calls, the first words he’s heard. Yeonjun’s feet direct him toward the origin of Beomgyu’s call, his heart pounding desperately against his ribcage. 

“Appa! Appa, where are you?” a second voice cries, this one belonging to Sarang. Yeonjun flicks his ears, thankful that they seem to be originating from the same place. He trusts his senses to lead him to Beomgyu and Sarang, praying he can escape his pursuer before then. 

**“Stay where you are, pup,”** a new voice says. And then, suddenly, Yeonjun’s entire body stops. He panics, trying to move, to escape, to even just  _ breathe _ . His eyes are the only things whose abilities seem to have remained, though it’s not as if they’re of much help to him. Yeonjun looks around, trying to figure out what stopped him. 

**“Do you not wish to save your brother?”**

A light appears in front of Yeonjun, then, but he sees himself instead of Taehyun sitting on a chair, it’s Yeonjun. He has his chin resting on his chest, his head weighed down by his crown of flowers. His eyes are closed and his clothes are all white, though some purple substance that Yeonjun wishes wasn’t blood stains them. 

_ What . . . what’s going on? _ he thinks. He looks around, then at the ground, staring at his paws.  _ Am I . . . Taehyun? _

“Taehyun-ah!” Beomgyu calls again. His ears prick at the sound, though, other than that, Yeonjun remains planted in Yeonjun’s body. He makes an agitated sort of noise in the back of his throat and paces, trying to choose. 

A thought breaks through Yeonjun’s head, one that doesn’t belong to him. 

_ Yeonjun-Hyung will die if I don’t save him. _

And then he wakes up. 

He gasps for breath, looking around. The moonlight just barely pushes through their curtains, brushing the faintest layer of silver over them. 

“Nightmare?” Soobin says, notifying Yeonjun that he’s awake. The older male looks over at his husband and notes that he’s sitting down, staring blankly out the window.

“Mm. How long have you been awake?” 

Soobin shrugs, turning to look at Yeonjun as he does. They sit across from each other, both of them wearing matching blank expressions. 

“Do you think we’ll be back home soon?” Yeonjun speaks softly. Soobin shrugs again, chewing on his lower lip. 

“No,” he finally says. “What with all of these obstacles, I don’t - I don’t think-” he sucks in a breath, looking heartbroken “-I don’t think that we’ll be back in time for Jihwan’s birthday.”

Yeonjun feels as if he’s been punched in the gut. He knew, in a sense, that it was nearly impossible for them to get back to Dragon City by June, since it’s already late May. Jihwan was born on June 3rd. They left too late to get back in time, though Yeonjun still longs to be there with his family. 

He sighs. 

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at his hands, now laced together. “I know. We left too late.” 

“Hopefully we can find something for him as we go, though,” Soobin says. Yeonjun hums and nods, his heart heavy in his chest. 

“Yeah,” he repeats. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

Soobin looks at him worriedly, then he reaches out and places his hand on Yeonjun’s. Yeonjun looks up at him and tries for a smile, though Soobin clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“I know it - I know it seems pretty scary right now,” he says, “but - but I think we - we’ll get through this. We always do, don’t we?” 

Yeonjun hums and nods, though he knows Soobin can tell that his heart’s not in it. He’s just - he’s worried about his kids. He’s always worried about them whenever they’re apart, though he supposes that’s his fault for not fully recovering from his daughter’s sudden and unexpected death. The kids seem to have quietly accepted that Yeonjun is always a bit overprotective and none of them have questioned it, much to Yeonjun’s relief. 

_ Gods, I can’t remember being like this as a kid, _ he thinks as he puts his elbow on the little windowsill and rests his chin on his palm.  _ It must’ve happened after the kids. Beomgyu said that he changed and so did Taehyun. All of us have changed for our children.  _

Yeonjun sighs as the carriage continues through the fields, though the forest has begun bleeding into them. It must’ve happened while he was sleeping since Yeonjun has clear memories of being in silver-bathed plains. 

Neither Soobin nor Yeonjun fall asleep for the rest of the trip. Their journey to Soobin’s hometown is long and filled with a heavy silence, and it makes Yeonjun feel a bit as if they’re grieving. In his mind, they are, though it isn’t for people they know - instead, Yeonjun and Soobin grieve quietly for those lost to the plague and pray to the gods for help. 

“Do you think Hoseok-Hyung has heard anything from Adonis yet?” Soobin says. Yeonjun shrugs, sighing and leaning his head against the carriage door. 

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I hope so. It feels-” his words catch on the lump in his throat and Yeonjun feels tears prick his eyes “-it feels as if we’ll only be able to beat this with the help of the gods themselves.”

Soobin sighs. 

“I know,” he says. “I just - I was wondering if I was the only one.”

Yeonjun laughs drily and shakes his head. 

“Nope, unfortunately not,” he says. “What about your visions? Have - have you seen anything?”

Soobin looks away and shakes his head, his shoulders slumping even further. 

“Nothing since - I haven’t seen anything since we first heard about it,” he says. “It - they always seem to do this whenever anything big happens.”

Yeonjun sighs, rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah, they do,” he says. He sits back and tries for a smile, holding his hand out to Soobin. “It’s not your fault, though. We don’t - there’s never been anything like your visions before, at least not anything recorded or written down. There’s no way anyone can blame you for not knowing why they’re acting up.” 

Soobin hums and nods, wringing his hands as he continues to look worriedly out the window. Yeonjun frowns at him though he says nothing, choosing instead to mirror his husband’s actions. 

They travel for a few more hours before they reach the western capital. Yeonjun supposes, now that he thinks about it, that they’re technically ‘ _ sub _ -capitals’, as Ifan’s true, central capital is Dragon City. 

Soobin’s reaction to his not-so birthplace is rather different from Yeonjun’s. He looks out the windows, but his expression is carefully kept blank. His posture is tense and it’s clear that he’s uncomfortable, though he doesn’t say anything to betray this. Yeonjun, instead of looking outside, watches his husband, mapping out the stiffness in his body and how he remains coiled and ready to attack at any given moment. Then again, Yeonjun can’t say he blames him; Soobin has told him plenty about his childhood in a palace, not much of it pretty.

“The last time I was here, I was exiled,” Soobin says finally, his tone joking. He’s clearly trying to lighten the mood, and Yeonjun appreciates that. He indulges in it, laughing and drawing up happy memories from their time as young adults. Dangerous as it was, Yeonjun did enjoy a lot of it. Here’s not to say he wants more war, don’t get him wrong; Yeonjun simply enjoyed spending time with those he loved and growing up around them. 

“We’ve grown up a lot, haven’t we?” he says softly. Soobin hums and nods, drumming his fingers on the seat as he looks out at the empty city streets. 

“We have,” he says. He sighs and smiles softly at his husband. “We’ve known each other for thirty years, can you believe it?” 

Yeonjun scowls and blows at his bangs, crossing his arms and shaking his head. 

“Gods, don’t say that,” he chides. “It makes us sound a lot older than we actually are. If you ever tell anyone that, you need to first establish that we met when we were five and six.” 

Soobin laughs, shaking his head. 

“Well, it’s good to see that some bits haven’t changed,” he says teasingly. Yeonjun huffs and shakes his head, smiling to himself. 

“You’re still the shy little boy you were when we met,” he says. Soobin laughs again, his shoulders moving up and down as he does. Yeonjun’s smile widens proudly. 

“And you’re still the little prince who jumped into a pond, just with a title change.” 

Yeonjun throws his head back to laugh this time, the sound bouncing off of the carriage walls. 

“Gods, you’re too much,” he says. Soobin shrugs at him and then makes a kissy face. Yeonjun leans over and pecks him, laughing when Soobin chases after him. They goof around for a little while longer, trying to pretend there’s nothing wrong.

“I hope everyone’s - or, well, I suppose that I hope as many people are okay as possible,” Soobin says, breaking up the illusion. 

Yeonjun nods, humming quietly. 

“Yeah,” he says, “me too.” 

They reach the palace and are handed face-coverings before they go in. Yeonjun looks around, the faintest hints of spring flowers reaching his nose. He sighs and feels Soobin grip his hand, adjusting the light cloak draped over his shoulders. 

“Welp, here goes nothing,” Soobin says. 

And with that, they head into the palace. 

It’s always been strange to see Soobin’s parents. Especially now, since Yeonjun also knows that Soobin is adopted. Soobin had told him quietly one night and Yeonjun had simply shrugged. While it wasn’t unheard of, the idea of adopting an heir is largely stigmatized. Soobin’s name would forever be marked if the information was to escape, no matter how much he’s done. 

“Are you ready?” Yeonjun says. Soobin hums and shrugs beside him. 

“I’d like to think so,” he says. Yeonjun laughs, shivering a bit despite the heated weather of late spring. He prays that all of the farmers will be able to plant and harvest crops this year, as not a single person has any idea how long this huge, mass quarantine will last. 

_ Let’s just hope we find a cure soon, _ Yeonjun thinks as the doors open. Soobin and Yeonjun walk in, surrounded by armor-clad guards, The halls are full of paintings and tapestries, most of which Yeonjun’s never seen before. He’s heard from Taehyung that there’s a sort of controversy over paintings from before Soobin’s and Yeonjun’s rule, as many of them include Aristok. Soobin and Yeonjun had put Taehyung and Hoseok in charge of such matters concerning the art found around the empire, having decided that neither of them were probably very adequate for such decisions. 

“It’s very different from the south,” Yeonjun murmurs. Soobin nods, squeezing his hand. It’s also very different from their current home, though the palace of the Eastern Kingdom is made of marble, unlike its southern counterpart. It’s hard for Yeonjun to imagine Soobin growing up here, though. 

“Do you miss it?” he says. Soobin shrugs. 

“Not really,” he says. He sighs, looking around. “There was never much to miss here.” 

Yeonjun hums and nods, just as the doors to the throne room open. Soobin’s parents both stand when they see the other couple, bowing and curtsying. Yeonjun and Soobin do the same as their guards part for them, smiling at the two women. 

“Your Imperial Majesties,” Soobin’s mother says, offering them a pained smile, “it’s so wonderful to see you both safe and healthy.” 

Soobin nods stiffly and Yeonjun squeezes his hand. His husband locks eyes with his father and the woman stares back, her gaze blank and guarded. 

“We have come to speak with you about this plague,” Soobin says slowly. “We would like to know everything.” 

They sit down to lunch, though it’s rather late in the afternoon for such. Yeonjun and Soobin sit across from Soobin’s parents, eating quietly. The food is good, but it isn’t good enough to distract Yeonjun from the matter at hand. He puts his utensils down on the table and dabs his lips with his napkin, sitting straight. 

“Well, we might as well address the dragon in the room,” he says, looking around. “What do your numbers look like?” 

“They - we’ve managed to somewhat control them with the quarantine, but there isn’t much else we’ve been able to do,” Yeonjun’s father says. She sighs and shakes her head. “Do you know what this is? We - we received word that we were to remain in our individual kingdoms, what of the others?”

“My parents - I mean, well, the king and queen of the Southern Kingdom are both sick,” Yeonjun says. “Soobin and I have both decided that no one should be going in or out of the castle, for risk of infection.”

“All right.” 

Soobin nods along, staring blankly at the food in front of him. Yeonjun notices that he hasn’t touched it once. 

“Soobin,” the queen says softly. The emperor tenses, his head jerking up as he bares his fangs dangerously. 

“Address me correctly,” he growls. “I will not tolerate your presence if you are unable to do so.” 

Yeonjun looks worriedly at his husband, though Soobin is quick to return to glaring daggers at his plate. Beneath the table, Yeonjun reaches over and rests a hand on his thigh, hoping to soothe him. Then again, he’s sure he would have a similar reaction.

“Have you any rooms we may stay in?” he says. 

“We should write to the kids. We’ve been silent for the better part of a week now,” Yeonjun says gently as he helps Soobin to sit down. His husband nods mutely, staring blankly at the desk. Yeonjun turns away to go and get some parchment, though the softest of whispers stops him in his tracks.

“This was my old room,” Soobin says. The words seem to tumble from his mouth and land on the ground, filling the place with some sort of unnamable stench. Yeonjun’s stomach churns as he looks around, stiff in his movements. 

“Oh,” is all he can think to say. Soobin shrugs, then he opens one of the desk drawers and pulls out two pieces of parchment. 

“Here,” he says. He gets up and gestures to the chair, smiling gently, though there’s a heavy sort of pain in his eyes. “You can sit. I’ll go get a chair to write at the window.”

Yeonjun nods, still speechless. He goes and sits down, finding a quill to dip into the little inkwell. He flattens out the piece of parchment and slowly begins to write, his letters thick and heavy on the yellowish surface. 

“Soobin, dear,” he says, turning to call over his shoulder. However, instead of his husband, he sees his mother-in-law. 

The woman shifts in place, adjusting her skirts. Yeonjun gets to his feet and stares at her, his eyes darting to the door. 

“Where’s Soobin?” he says suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. The woman looks over her shoulder at the door, then down at her hands. Yeonjun stiffens and he feels his hand wandering toward the dragon bone knife hidden in his skirts. 

“He went to the library,” the woman finally says quietly. Her voice is soft and fearful, though Yeonjun supposes he can see why; he is, after all, her son’s husband, someone she had forbidden him from marrying. 

“Oh,” Yeonjun says, nodding. He gestures to one of the armchairs positioned near the unlit fireplace. “Would you like to sit down?” 

The woman shifts in place before she nods. 

“Soyeon,” she says then. Yeonjun hums in question as he turns to look at her, tilting his head curiously. She shifts and wrings her hands. “I - it’s my name. Though I assume you couldn’t care less about such a thing.” 

Yeonjun smiles nervously. 

“Ah, no, it’s fine,” he says, waving his hand. He sits down, crossing his legs. “Um, uh, was there something you needed?” 

“I - I would like to apoligze,” Soyeon says. She sighs and runs a hand through her graying hair. “I have not . . . I have not been the kindest to you or His Imperial Majesty in the past years.” 

_ Kind of an understatement, but okay, _ Yeonjun thinks as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“It - it’s fine,” he says, even though it really isn’t and he can’t even  _ imagine _ bringing his children to meet the woman before him. “It was a long time ago.”

Soyeon shifts uncomfortably, making it clear that she doesn’t believe him. Yeonjun’s posture stiffens further and he watches the other Omega carefully, his expression guarded. 

“I - I hope you know that we meant nothing by it,” she says nervously. 

Yeonjun feels rage rear its ugly head in his chest as he briskly gets to his feet. 

“I’m going to ask you to leave,” he says coldly. “My husband will be displeased to find you here. We are both rather tired and would like to rest. Our children await our letters.” 

Soyeon bows her head and quickly scurries out of the room. Yeonjun scowls as he watches her leave, stomping over to the desk. He sits down and puts his head in his hands, sighing heavily as his shoulders lose their tension and slump. 

“Gods,” he mumbles, “what a piece of work.”

Soobin comes back a little later and they finish their letters. Together, they go out to get a messenger dragon, talking quietly about Soobin’s parents. 

“We should leave as soon as possible,” Yeonjun murmurs. He looks around, once again checking to see if anyone’s listening in on their conversation. “But I think we should check the city itself. It’d be best for everyone if we got out of here as soon as possible.” 

Soobin hums in agreement, nodding his head. 

“Good idea. We can probably leave after dinner, though we should probably stay the night to get some extra rest. Tomorrow morning?” 

Yeonjun nods. 

“Tomorrow morning,” he agrees quietly. It can’t be  _ that _ bad, can it?

It is, in fact, that bad. Dinner is a painful affair, in which everyone is stiff as boards as the plague is thoroughly discussed. Yeonjun is unable to hide his sigh of relief as he and Soobin walk away from the table. 

“Gods,” he murmurs as he lies beside his husband, “they’re  _ awful _ .” 

Soobin laughs, rolling onto his side with a grin. Yeonjun looks up at him warily. 

“Trust me, I know,” he says. He sighs, shaking his head as he lies back down. “Gods, I hated it here. The only good thing was getting letters from you.” 

“We really were cluesless, weren’t we?” Yeonjun says. He shakes his head and laughs a bit, smiling at his husband. “It was rather obvious that we were quite enamoured with each other from the start, don’t you think?” 

“It was,” Soobin says. He reaches forward and brushes his knuckles against Yeonjun’s cheek. The older leans into the touch, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. Soobin leans forward and Yeonjun feels lips press against his forehead.

“When did you realize you loved me?” Yeonjun says quietly. Soobin hums and shrugs. 

“It was gradual, really,” he says. “I just - it happened and I didn’t realize it.” He grins, then, his features barely visible through the dark. “One day, I just woke up, and I realized - well, I realized I’d always felt something and I’d always allowed it to grow until it became this.” He kisses Yeonjun, his lips soft as he tenderly cradles the older’s face in his hands. “And it hit me, then, that I’d always loved you.” 

Yeonjun laughs and kisses him back, lacing his fingers through Soobin’s hair. Their legs are tangled together and they push closer to each other, as they both still long for each other like they’re teenagers who know nothing about love. Yeonjun finds it funny, really, but also relieving in a sense; it comforts him, a silent assurance that he and Soobin are still just as in love, no matter what they’ve been through. 

They leave as soon as they both finish breakfast. Yeonjun clutches Soobin’s hand as they scramble out of the sad, lonely palace. 

“Gods, I hated being in there,” Yeonjun says. He looks around and sighs, closing his eyes and leaning into the sunlight that streams easily through the windows of the carriage. Soobin hums and nods in agreement, reaching over to squeeze his hand. 

“It’s good to be back in the city,” he says quietly. Yeonjun nods, continuing to bask in the warmth of the sun. 

They “tour” the city for a little while, stopping at hospitals and going out to try and figure out more about what’s been going on. It’s hard and it really does hurt to see all of these people struggling so much, and Yeonjun can’t help the shadow that seems to loom over him as he and Soobin get ready to head north for their final destination. Ifan lacks a western kingdom since it has the capital and most of the land there is used for farming. Also, it’s very sparsely populated, so no one’s ever really established any sort of castle or anything. Yeonjun and Soobin know that Jeongguk took a team of soldiers out there to check on everyone, so he supposes that everyone’s all right since the reports didn’t say anything too terrible. 

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Soobin says as they head out, the sun already sinking beneath the horizon. He sighs and nods, resting his chin on his palm as he looks out at the fading outline of the city. 

“I know,” he lies, fully aware that Soobin can see right through him. Well, it’s not like he was trying to make it seem as if he felt that way, so Yeonjun can’t really say he cares. 

“When do you think we’ll be getting the responses from the kids?” Yeonjun says idly, continuing to look out the window. Soobin hums and shrugs as Yeonjun shifts around to face him. 

“Soon, I hope,” he says. “Then again, I doubt they’ve even gotten them yet.”

“I hope they aren’t worrying too much about us,” Soobin says. “Especially Minjun. I don’t want him to jump to conclusions.” 

Yeonjun hums, nodding in agreement. 

“He’ll - the Hyungs and our dongsaengs will take care of them,” he says. “They’ll make sure he doesn’t worry too much. They’ll all make sure none of the kids get stressed out.” 

Soobin nods. 

“Yeah, Bora’s like that, I’m sure Hoseok-Hyung and Hueningie will know what to do.” 

“Of course,” Yeonjun says. He sighs. “Yeah, everything’s going to be okay.” 

He has another dream that night that says otherwise. Soobin stands in a forest, his teeth bared and his sword soaked in blood, just like the rest of him. In his arms, a dying boy lies, soaked in blood just as Soobin. 

“Stay back!” Soobin roars, rage filling every fiber of his being. “You will not take him!” 

One of his attackers approaches, and Yeonjun swears his heart stops. He wouldn’t be surprised if it actually did, since, standing before Soobin and the dying boy is Jotrud (or so Yeonjun thinks), the god of death. They stand silently and stare at the two males, their back to Yeonjun. Soobin growls angrily, showing his bloody teeth. 

“You,” he pants, venom dripping from his voice. “ _ You _ .” 

**“Me,”** Jotrud agrees, nodding their head.  **“I remember you, emperor.”**

“You will not steal him from me,” Soobin spits. “You will not - you will not take anyone else from me. This one is  _ mine _ .” 

_ Who did we lose? _ Yeonjun thinks. 

Jotrud laughs, though the sound is more like the rattling of bones rather than something of joy. The god shifts a bit, staring blankly at the emperor and the boy. They lift a hand and point at him and the boy’s body jerks. His mouth falls open and something begins to escape from between his lips. 

It seems to only anger Soobin further as he presses the boy’s body to his chest, hiding his face. Jotrud, for the first time in the encounter, looks genuinely angry and even a bit scared as they hiss at Soobin. 

**“Do not be foolish, emperor,”** Jotrud snarls.  **“You cannot beat a god no matter your status amongst your fellow mortals.”**

“Perhaps,” Soobin says, “but this one is  _ mine _ .”

Jotrud tilts their head, somewhat redrawing their previous, calmer attitude. 

**“Do you believe that?”** they say curiously. They step closer and Soobin presses the boy further into his embrace, his armor growing bloodier with every second that passes. As Yeonjun himself moves forward to investigate further, he realizes that the boy is very rapidly bleeding out, unconscious though still clinging desperately to his lifeline. 

Soobin growls, anger coming off of him in waves. And then, the unimaginable happens.

A huge, dark orb of sorts encases Soobin, something that surely belongs to Jotrud. However, instead of consuming Soobin and the boy, a bright light cuts through the clearing, blinding everyone and everything around it and waking Yeonjun up. 

The carriage is still when Yeonjun opens his eyes, his heart pounding harshly against his ribcage. He frowns and looks around, slowly trying to blink himself awake as he sits up. The sky lacks its beloved silver moon tonight, meaning that they’re bathed in near darkness. He fumbles around, searching for some sort of light and cursing under his breath. He tries to be quiet, hoping to keep from waking his husband, as everyone knows how badly Soobin needs sleep. Despite the warm, early-summer weather, Yeonjun shivers. Ifan is known for getting colder at night, sometimes  _ much _ colder, though Yeonjun has never thought much of it. For some reason, though, tonight the difference between the day's temperature and how it is now is much more obvious and even a bit unsettling. Nonetheless, he continues to search for a light. 

Yeonjun’s fumbling comes to an abrupt stop, though, when one of the carriage doors is yanked open, perhaps by the wind, though it seems unlikely. Yeonjun stills, staring out at the field. They’re much closer to the forest than he had initially assumed, as he can see quite a few trees scattered throughout the grasses. Those that stand alone stick out from the ground like loose threads from old clothes, though there are still a few that have grown in clump-like groups. 

Slowly, warily, Yeonjun leans forward and reaches toward the handle of the carriage door. However, the moment his fingertips brush over the metal, some sort of shock runs through him and he jerks his hand away, hissing quietly under his breath. He clutches his wrist and holds his hand against his chest, glaring out at the field before him. The grasses seem to taunt him from outside, laughing at the empress as he sits within the safety of his carriage.  _ Coward, _ they tease, giggling amongst themselves. Yeonjun scowls. 

_ Coward, _ they say again, louder this time. Yeonjun digs his nails into his palms and tries to force himself to keep from going out, chewing on his lower lip. He tastes blood, hot and bitter in his mouth. Another breeze rushes through the grass and Yeonjun stares, his heart pounding. 

And then, slowly, Yeonjun steps out of the carriage and into the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> luv u and stay safe!


	7. Blood and Phlegm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun's and Soobin's trip doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee

[ _ Panic Room _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0yDvd0V9wA)

Yeonjun only realizes he’s barefoot after he’s deep into the field. The grasses are tall and they go up to his hips, though a part of him wonders if he’s hallucinating at all. He is, after all, extremely tired and seemingly on the verge of passing out, but who really cares? Certainly not Yeonjun, though there’s something that’s making him feel as if he should. 

His movements are slow and lethargic, his every step weighed down by his exhaustion. Yeonjun shakes his head, sighing, and turning to look back at the carriage. 

It’s gone. Instead of the field Yeonjun thought he was in, Yeonjun finds himself standing amongst countless pansies and violets, and fear wraps its icy hand around his heart, sinking its claws in. 

_ No, _ Yeonjun thinks. He looks around, trying to find an exit he knows isn’t there.  _ No, not now. No, no, no, no- _

“Yeonjun!”

And then, before Yeonjun can blink, the flowers are all gone, leaving Yeonjun in the middle of the field. He shields his eyes from the sun, wincing a bit. 

“Yeonjunnie, where were you?” Soobin says as he walks up. He takes Yeonjun’s wrists in his hands, his touch gentle, and he looks over Yeonjun, checking for any injuries.

“I’m fine,” Yeonjun says. He smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I thought I saw something. Let’s go eat breakfast, shall we?” 

Soobin looks at him suspiciously, supposedly checking for any other explanation as to why Yeonjun was out there. Yeonjun prays he doesn’t see anything off, though he knows he’s asking for a lot; he doesn’t think anyone, maybe not even  _ Taehyun _ , knows him better than Soobin does. 

“Okay,” Soobin finally says, though his eyes make it clear that he still wants to talk either while they’re eating or after they’ve finished. He squeezes Soobin’s hand and hopes it comforts him, though the soft smile Soobin offers in return gives nothing away. 

Together, they walk back to the carriage. Yeonjun clings tightly to Soobin’s hand, still trying to subtly look for any traces of the flowers. He doesn’t stop until the doors to the carriage shut and the vehicle begins to move, continuing their journey. 

“What was it?” Soobin says as he eats. 

Yeonjun turns and stares out the window, humming quietly to himself as he thinks. 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” he finally confesses. He looks down at the piece of bread in his hands. The crumbs fall easily, pooling in his lap, and Yeonjun dusts them off. They’ll clean them out of the carriage at their next stop. “Though I - I must admit, I haven’t - I have some - I have a lot to tell you.” 

Soobin hums, not saying anything as he continues to eat. 

On the other hand, Yeonjun puts his food down, feeling too sick to stomach anything.

“Have you - it might just be nothing, though have you . . . in your visions, have you seen anything about . . . well, I don’t know, though I’m certain I sound ridiculous, but have you seen anything about flower fields? Pansies and violets to be specif-”

Yeonjun stops as Soobin has dropped his breakfast and is staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. 

“Pansies? Violets? Fields of them, right?” he says, his voice slow and shaking. Yeonjun nods carefully, eying him nervously. “Anything else? Were - is there a chair? Wooden, brown, a bit creaky?” 

“Soobin, what’s in that field?” Yeonjun says. 

Soobin pales, something rather difficult for someone of his complexion, though he manages anyway. He looks down at his feet for a few moments before looking up at Yeonjun, his eyes dark and serious. 

“You die in that field,” Soobin says grimly, darkly. Yeonjun feels his heart stop. 

“No,” he whispers. He looks down at his hands, touches his throat. “No, I - I can’t. How can we stop it? We have to stop it, right? There must be something we can do, there’s always something.” 

“Don’t go near the flowers,” Soobin says quickly. He grabs Yeonjun’s hands, commanding his attention even more so than before. “Whatever you do, Yeonjun, stay away from them. Ignore the voice, it means nothing but trouble. Do whatever you can to stay away from it all.” 

Yeonjun nods. 

“It has to work, right?” he says shakily. “I can’t - I can’t die, this isn’t - I - my story isn’t over yet, I still have so much to do, I can’t die, right?” 

Soobin squeezes his hands, staring at him with kind, gentle eyes that just-barely manage to soothe him. 

“I swear,” he says, kissing the back of Yeonjun’s hand, “that nothing will happen to you or anyone. I will do everything within my power to protect you, even at the cost-”

“Don’t,” Yeonjun says quickly, cutting him off. He holds Soobin’s gaze. “Don’t say that, please.” He gulps. “It will - it may become a possible future if you do.” 

Soobin stares at him for a bit before he nods, squeezing Yeonjun’s hands again. He leans forward and they kiss, the feeling of their lips pressed against each other soothing and familiar. Soobin tugs him forward and Yeonjun tilts his head, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Nothing like a good old make out session, right?

They continue their trip through the empire, now heading north. Yeonjun stares out the window as the carriage bumbles along, over the little-worn path. Well, it’s hardly a path in his opinion and more of an area where the grass is smushed down and not as thick as everywhere else. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers, can they?

(Yeonjun, however, finds this a bit ironic; he’s an empress, isn’t he? Not to be bratty or spoiled, but shouldn’t he be allowed to be a bit choosy or picky?)

They also have yet to receive any responses from their children. Yeonjun prays it’s because of how off-grid they are and how easy it is to get lost in the vast expanse of the empire, though he really can’t be sure. He just hopes that nothing wrong has happened. 

He asks Soobin about it as they’re traveling one night. Soobin hums and shrugs, saying he doesn’t know. Yeonjun sighs, leaning his head against the door and staring longingly out at passing trees. 

“I hope everything’s okay,” he says quietly. Soobin hums, moving around a bit so they’re both sitting next to each other. He shifts on the bench, curling up and resting his head in Yeonjun’s lap. 

“Me too,” he mumbles. Yeonjun begins to play with his hair, hoping to calm his nerves, though the action offers little assistance. He continues despite that, finding the tiniest bit of solace to be relieving. 

“Do you think they are?” he says. When Soobin opens his mouth to answer, Yeonjun interrupts and asks, “Honestly. Do you really think everything’s okay back at the palace? We haven’t heard anything for . . . well, at least a week by now. Travel’s been rather slow, so I would’ve . . . I would’ve thought that the messenger would have caught up to us.” 

Soobin hums, looking up at him. 

“I don’t know,” he says quietly and Yeonjun swears he can feel a bit of his heart break at that. Soobin sighs, reaching up to touch his face. Yeonjun leans into his cupped hand, his eyelids beginning to droop as he does. “I just - I feel so helpless right now, sometimes,” he gulps, “sometimes it makes me wonder if we should’ve gone on this trip, or if it was the wrong thing to do. I don’t - I don’t know anymore.” 

Yeonjun nods in agreement, sighing softly. 

“It’s . . . a lot of it is from Soo-Jung, don’t you think?” he says. He feels Soobin nod, though now he’s staring ahead, focusing on a spot on the carriage. Gods, they’re going to need to clean it when they get to the next kingdom. Chances are that they’ll probably scrap it when they finally return home. 

“Yeah,” Soobin says quietly. Yeonjun can feel his eyes on his face, tracing his features just as they have a million times (or is it more?) before. “Yeah, I do.” 

Yeonjun sighs, looking down at his husband and offering a sad, shaky smile. Soobin returns it and they seem to match, both of them wearing their sad, sad smiles as they think about their long-dead daughter. Gods, it’s been so long, hasn’t it? And they say time heals all wounds, but Soo-Jung’s death still feels rather fresh in Yeonjun’s memory. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Soobin says gently. Yeonjun sighs and shakes his head, his shoulders slumping. 

“Gods, then whose was it?” he says, sounding rather desperate and a bit whiny for his taste. “How - why did she die like that? How?” 

“It happens sometimes,” Soobin says, as it’s the best explanation he - and everyone else it seems - can offer. It just makes Yeonjun feel even more frustrated, and he knows that Soobin is aware of that. Gods, he just wants his children to be okay, is that really too much to ask? He didn’t do anything, he didn’t-

“Something’s trying to kill us,” Yeonjun says, the words spilling from between his lips before he can even think of stopping them. Soobin stiffens in his lap and looks up, his eyes wide with shock. 

“What?” he says. “What did you say?” 

“It’s trying to kill us, to kill our children - Soobin, they - Soobin, what if it already did? That’s why - that’s why Soo-Jung died. It wants us and our bloodline gone.” 

“Yeonjun, love, hold on,” Soobin says, sitting up and shifting to hold Yeonjun’s hands. He holds his gaze, firm and commanding. It reminds Yeonjun, in his half-crazed state, of a mountain standing tall in the midst of a windstorm. Undeterred no matter what is thrown at it. 

“Soobin,” Yeonjun says, trying to force himself to calm down, “it - that night when Channie - when Channie had the nightmare, it told me. It told me it was coming to kill us, to tear us apart. We have - we have to go back  _ now _ .” 

“We’re too far north,” Soobin says. He holds tightly to Yeonjun’s hands. “Think about it, love. They have so many people looking out for them, if anything happened - well, then they’d have to get through every other defense first. And by the time they do that, we’ll be back home and ready to protect them.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t believe that, and he knows Soobin knows. Nevertheless, he finds himself nodding a little, his hands continuing to shake in Soobin’s steady grasp. He hates it, hates this feeling of fear that seems to have totally taken him over, holding his mind with an iron fist. Even as they continue to travel and the day drags on, Yeonjun finds himself unable to stop worrying about his children, his mind firm in its decision to center itself around them and their wellbeing. 

_ Gods, I certainly wasn’t like this when I was younger, _ he thinks, resting his chin on his palm as he looks out the window. He sighs and shakes his head, blue strands moving with him.  _ So much has changed in the past few years.  _

Subconsciously, Yeonjun’s gaze turns to Soobin. His Alpha has his legs crossed with a book in his hand. He’s picking at his lower lip with his free hand, his brow furrowed cutely as he reads. His hair is shorter, pushed back from his face. Like Yeonjun, Soobin has some very nearly invisible strands of gray running through his hair, though Yeonjun doesn’t think anyone else knows about them. Even if his hair color should make it obvious, it’s never been easy to see Soobin’s gray hairs. But all of them - their pack, that is, though not including the children - have some gray. It’s something that comes when age and stress are together, going hand-in-hand with each other. 

“Do you remember when we first met Yoongi-Hyung?” Yeonjun murmurs, his words slightly muffled by his pinky as it pulls at his lower lip. “It was a little after my wedding.” 

Soobin looks up from his book, smiling gently as he puts it down. 

“Of course, I do,” he says. He laughs a bit, sighing and sitting back. “His eye - do you remember that? We thought he’d go blind. And none of us knew a damned thing about healing or medicine.” 

“Well, Beomgyu knew a bit,” Yeonjun says, shrugging. He touches his left eye, dragging the pad of his pointer finger over where Yoongi’s scar is. “He can see, can’t he?” 

Soobin laughs, shaking his head and smiling brightly at his husband.

“You’ll have to ask him that,” he says. Yeonjun huffs, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. 

“He’s all right. Still a skilled marksman, so I’d say we did rather well.” 

Soobin laughs, shaking his head again, and Yeonjun feels some of the tension begrudgingly leave him. He reaches out and grabs Soobin’s hand, holding it firmly. Soobin looks down, then he looks back up at Yeonjun, his eyes soft and his expression fond. 

“You remind me of them,” he says softly. Yeonjun frowns curiously and tilts his head. 

“Whom?” he says. 

“The kids,” Soobin answers. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hand and rubs circles onto the top. “They all have little ticks, little things that come from you. And I think they all look like you, in their own ways.” 

“I thought that they looked like you,” Yeonjun says. “Minjun and Jihwan definitely resemble you more closely than me while Channie is more of a mix.” 

Soobin shrugs. 

“Jihwan just reminds me of you,” he says. “You two have such similar personalities, it always makes me so happy. And you all have such good relationships with each other.” 

Yeonjun shrugs. 

“So do you,” he says, getting up and slowly moving to sit beside his husband on the other side of the carriage. He rests his head on his shoulder. “You and Hwan are especially close.”

“Mm.” 

“It’s true!” Yeonjun says, sitting up. “All of you have something special, just like I do.”

Soobin smiles at him, squeezing his hand gently. 

“I know,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about me. I know.” 

Yeonjun sighs, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he returns to leaning on Soobin’s shoulder. 

“Well,” he mumbles, “it just felt as if you needed a bit of a reminder.” 

Soobin laughs, shaking his head for the nth time and squeezing Yeonjun’s hand. Then, slowly, they’re both lulled to sleep by the gentle movements of the carriage. 

Unfortunately, their trip isn’t all that nice. When Yeonjun wakes up, his skin is crawling, and his stomach churns at the feeling of being watched. He shifts, careful to keep from waking Soobin up, and turns to push the curtains away from the window, squinting as he looks out. 

Fear is quick and ruthless as it injects itself into his veins and takes him over. Yeonjun stumbles away from the window, landing on his butt with a grunt, though he can’t make himself care right now. For, outside of the window, a thick and frighteningly familiar fog has surrounded them. 

And, even worse, Yeonjun can hear someone else. He’s long-since grown used to the sound of the carriage, so, naturally, he’s begun to tune it out, but there’s something breaking through it. His heart pounds as he slowly gets up and tries to look out the window again, but a sudden jolt in the carriage stops him while simultaneously waking up Soobin. 

“What - what’s going on?” he mumbles. Yeonjun rubs the back of his head and winces. 

“There - look outside,” he says. Gods, his voice is shaking so much, is he really that scared?

_ Yes, _ his mind answers.  _ Gods, this is terrifying because I’m very near 100% certain that this mist is going to kill us or worse. _

Soobin frowns, dragging himself over to the window and looking out. His eyes widen when he does and he stumbles back, just as Yeonjun did. 

“What the hell?” he says. “When - when on earth did that happen?”

“It must’ve been while we were sleeping,” Yeonjun says. He frowns and forces himself onto his feet despite how his head throbs. “Do you - do you see anything out there?”

Soobin looks out again, then he shakes his head. 

“No,” he says. He looks over his shoulder at Yeonjun, tilting his head. “Did you?” 

Yeonjun nods, still rubbing his head. Gods, he can’t believe it still hurts. 

“It was - I swear I saw  _ something _ ,” he says. His voice keeps shaking, gods, what’s wrong? “It - we’re being followed, I  _ swear _ .” 

Soobin looks worriedly at him before he crouches down and takes his hands, looking into his eyes. He tilts his head and gently reaches up to cup Yeonjun’s jaw, turning his head about with a frown. 

“Okay,” he says. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hands, both of them still enveloped in Soobin’s larger one. “I believe you. I promise. But are you okay? Does your head still hurt?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Yeonjun says. He gets up. “We still - we - how much longer until we get there? We’ll have to get a new carriage, I think. And we should - we need to check on the driver, is he all right? Can you - can you ask him?”

Soobin nods as he reluctantly gets up. He knocks on the side of the carriage where the driver is closest to, then he calls, “Excuse me, Kim Sungwoo-ssi, are you okay?” 

The answer comes and Yeonjun feels relief flood through him as Sungwoo says, “Yes, of course, Your Imperial Majesties! Do we have to stop?” 

“No, thank you!” Soobin says. He pauses, then, before he says, “However, if you begin to feel lightheaded or anything along the lines of such, please do stop the carriage!” 

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” Sungwoo says. They continue and Soobin walks over to sit beside Yeonjun, frowning and tilting his head. 

“How are you feeling?” he says. Yeonjun tries to smile at him, though he knows it doesn’t do anything. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says again. “I’ll make sure to get it checked out when we get there. It can’t be much longer, right?” 

But, well, Yeonjun supposes it can be. Because days seem to pass and there still is no sign of the Northern Kingdom of Ifan. It doesn’t help that Yeonjun still feels as if they’re being followed, and the same goes with the nightmares. He’s woken Soobin up with them too, and he hates how dark the spots beneath his husband’s eyes have gotten. 

He sighs, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he curls up next to Soobin. Gods, even though he knows it’s probably useless, he’s really, really genuinely asking for a nightmare-free night. 

It seems, however, as if his prayer worked. When Yeonjun opens his eyes, he finds himself in a throne room. He looks around and finds himself to be bowing and his heart drops to the pit of his stomach when he notices the rusted chains that bind his arms to his back. He shifts, looking around. The throne room is also a mess - from the torn tapestries on the wall to the overturned or broken (or both!) furniture that’s been scattered around the room. 

**“Empress,”** a voice murmurs, grating and rough from disuse. Yeonjun’s head jerks up instinctively, though he has a feeling that the god (or so he thinks) before him also didn’t make it a choice. 

“Who are you?” he says. “Who are you and what do you want with my family?” 

The god laughs. They’re handsome but in an ugly, mean way. Their features are sharp and fine as the diamonds Yeonjun sometimes wears, their eyes a twin pair of smoldering embers. When they open their mouth, they reveal sharp, pointed fangs that gleam in the dim light of the torches around them. 

**“I am willing to bargain with you,”** they say slowly. Yeonjun thinks their voice might’ve been nice long ago when they were still speaking. Maybe like Taehyung’s?

“You cannot give and trade lives like objects,” he snaps. The god laughs again. 

**“Are you in any position to make demands, mortal?”** they say. Yeonjun’s scowl deepens and the god scoffs at him.  **“Tch. Typical of your kind. You truly would not bargain for not only the lives of your family, but also those of your subjects?”**

Yeonjun stops his struggling and looks up, his eyes wide. 

“You - you can - did you send it?” he says. 

The god, once again, scoffs at Yeonjun as if the answer is obvious.  **“Send it? Hell, I’m the one who invented the damn thing.”**

Yeonjun feels his lips lift up into a snarl and rage fills him. 

“You  _ bastard _ ,” he spits. A glob of saliva lands near the god’s boot and Yeonjun sees (and smells) their anger. 

**“Insolent mortal,”** they snarl.  **“I came here to bargain, you fool!”**

“How dare you bring my subjects, my - my  _ family _ into this! They have done nothing wrong! Not a single thing!” 

The god hisses at him, growing angrier with each word from Yeonjun’s mouth. Yeonjun has a voice in the back of his head, albeit a little one, though it’s screaming as loud as it possibly can to try to get him to  _ shut the fuck up, this could solve your problem! _

**“QUIET!”** the god suddenly roars, leaping from their throne. Yeonjun finds that he’s unable to make any sound and his heart leaps into his throat in response. He digs his nails into the skin of his palms, staring fearfully at the deity above him. They sigh and shake their head, sitting back down. 

**“You must learn,”** they say,  **“to be quiet.”**

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and sees the god stiffen in response, though they continue talking. 

**“Bring me the black dragon or the prince of the waves, and you will be freed,”** they say.  **“Either one will do.”** They grin, then, and Yeonjun feels a shiver run down his spine.  **“Though it would be in both your and my best interest to find the one I have sired, as it’d be faster. He’s here, you know. He’s playing himself right into your hands.”**

_ “Who?” _ Yeonjun tries to say, but it’s no use, especially since the dream is beginning to fade around the edges. Nevertheless, he continues to ask the god whom they speak about, even as he feels himself waking up. 

Soobin is shaking him when he opens his eyes. He shifts, blinking lazily and humming in question. 

“You were talking in your sleep,” he explains when Yeonjun looks at him curiously. He shifts in place a bit. “You - what were you-”

“The black dragon,” Yeonjun rushes out, then, before he forgets. He looks around, sitting up. “I - I need a piece of paper. I have to - I need to write this down. Quick!” 

“But-”

“Soobin, please,” Yeonjun says. “I - I dreamt about the cure.” 

Soobin’s eyes widen and then he too is looking for a piece of parchment. They look around the carriage until Soobin finds a worn journal, though they still need something to write with.

“I’ll use lipstick, give it here,” Yeonjun says, opening his hand pressing the pages of the journal down. Soobin hands him his makeup bag and Yeonjun grabs the little container, opening it up and swiping his finger through its contents. He writes slowly, trying to make it as neat as possible. 

“‘The black dragon’?” Soobin says, reading over his shoulder. 

“And the prince of the waves,” Yeonjun finishes, nodding as he looks at his handiwork. “The god - whoever they were - said that they had sired one of them.” 

“Could it have been Risauri?” Soobin says, though he shakes his head less than a second after he brings it up. “No, Risauri can’t do things like that.” He frowns, staring down at the paper with a furrowed brow. 

“I’ll write to Hoseok-Hyung and ask him,” Yeonjun says. “He might have some idea. Though-”

“Adonis,” Soobin says suddenly, snapping his fingers. He looks at Yeonjun, his eyes wide. “Yoongi-Hyung - he said - I remember him saying that Adonis had appeared as a black dragon. And Jeongguk-Hyung, in one of his letters to us, wrote that when Yoongi-Hyung saved Jimin-Hyung he had-”

“-black dragon wings,” Yeonjun finishes. He frowns, then, tilting his head. “But they said that one of them was a ‘he’. It must’ve been the prince, then. Oh, well, that makes sense I suppose. But that means-”

“-we have to capture a god,” Soobin says. Dread shadows his features as his face falls, the excitement from having (maybe) solved one of the clues from Yeonjun’s dream draining out of him in the blink of an eye. “How? And, if we did, we’d be cursed. They’re our patron now, ever since Aristok was overthrown-”

“That’s who it was,” Yeonjun breathes. He scrambles about. “Aristok is the one who sent this. They want - they want us to bring Adonis to them. We - the kids-”

“The prince of the waves would surely risk invoking Risauri’s wrath though,” Soobin says. “He must be-”

“Aristok - if we’re correct with this assumption - said he was ‘playing himself right into our hands’. What would that mean?” 

Soobin shrugs. 

“Gods, I wish I knew,” he says. “Maybe he ran away or something and is seeking sanctuary here?” 

Yeonjun sighs, hanging his head. 

“I just want to protect my people and my family,” he says. He feels the tears pricking his eyes, making his face hot as he sniffles angrily and tries not to cry. “Is it truly too much to ask?” 

Soobin pulls him close, scenting him gently and kissing the back of his neck. 

“We’ll find a way,” he says. “We always do.” 

They continue through the fog, and Yeonjun grows more and more worried. The scenery doesn’t seem to change at all as far as he can see and it still feels as if they’re being followed. He hates every moment that they aren’t moving, his throat closing up at the thought of having to meet their pursuer. It doesn’t help either that they still have yet to receive any sort of response from their friends and family back in the palace. 

“Gods, I hate this,” Yeonjun says, hugging himself and shivering. One thing he’s sure of is that it’s gotten a whole lot colder in the past few days(?), so much so that it’s making him quite suspicious of how long they’ve been traveling. 

“Honestly, who doesn’t?” Soobin says as he curls up beside him. He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s really beginning to feel as if we won’t ever get out of here.” 

“Who knows?” Yeonjun says. Gods, he’s going crazy with cabin (or is it carriage?) fever. He hates these four walls that haven’t changed one bit and he hates how it still feels as if they’re moving when it really seems as if the truth is far from whatever illusion they’ve woven themselves. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Soobin says, though Yeonjun knows that he knows it won’t do anything. “We’re going to get out of this, I promise. There has to be an end to this, right?”

“Aristok is a  _ god _ ,” Yeonjun says, unable to help himself. “They - he - he can do whatever he pleases. We have - we are lucky he has offered to take a sacrifice in return.” 

“Yes, but we are not favored by Risauri,” Soobin says, frowning. “Their son must be-”

“How would Aristok sire a son of Risauri, though?” Yeonjun says. He hits his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Gods, but the only one who could fit as ‘the blood of the waves’ would be a child of Risauri. Does Risauri even have a child?” 

Yeonjun scoffs. 

“They’re a god,” he says. “Nearly every god has countless children, all from the lovers they treat themselves to. Of course, they have a child. Aristok is probably referring to a favorite, though, so I suppose this isn’t going to be easy . . .” 

“Well, at least we know that the black dragon isn’t Adonis,” Soobin says. He sighs. “But that must mean that they’re Aristok’s child, which could mean-”

“Absolutely not,” Yeonjun says firmly. “We aren’t trading any of Hyungs’ lives for this. And it wouldn’t make sense, either, since Aristok spoke of them as if they didn’t . . . well, as if they weren’t easy to access. Besides, I don’t think he’d want them.” 

“This means, though, that there is a demigod running rampant through our empire,” Soobin says. “I mean nothing against the Hyungs, but . . . well, we don’t know what they’re capable of. Jin-Hyung was - he was - gods, all of them are so powerful. And this means that they have a sibling, and, well . . . I don’t know if we should tell them about this.” 

“About Aristok having a fifth child and setting them free to do as they please? Neither do I. I don’t know how they’d react to having to send a sibling to their death, even if they’ve never met.” 

Soobin sighs, slumping in his seat. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. 

“Gods, this is so frustrating,” he says. “I’d really rather not risk getting on Risauri’s bad side, though I don’t know how I’d feel about bringing in a potentially innocent person or dragon into this and sacrificing them to a god. What did he say about how we’d bring them, anyway? How would we do that?” 

“I haven’t a clue,” Yeonjun says. He shrugs. “I argued with him for a majority of the dream, anyway.” 

Soobin snorts, smiling and shaking his head fondly as he sits up to wrap an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders and pull him close. He nuzzles the side of his head, kissing the top and probably getting a mouthful of indigo curls. 

“Of course, you’d argue with a god in your dream,” he says. Yeonjun shrugs. 

“What can I say? I like to keep my brattiness consistent.” 

“You’re . . . almost thirty-seven,” Soobin says, arching an eyebrow. 

“So? I can be thirty-seven and be a brat. Haven’t you seen Jimin-Hyung?” 

Soobin snorts at that, shaking his head and sighing. 

“Good to see that some things haven’t changed,” he murmurs. Yeonjun hums, grabbing his hand and beginning to spin the wedding ring on his finger.

“Mmm, well life has, for the most part, gotten a lot better for us.” 

“Three kids, a palace, an empire, and countless subjects. Mmhmm.”

Yeonjun laughs, then he sighs and closes his eyes. 

“Well, then,” he says, his voice beginning to quiet as he grows sleepier, “I think we should go back to sleep. It still feels rather late and it’s not as if there’s anything better to do, right?” 

Soobin hums, kissing the top of his head again before he shifts them around so that Yeonjun’s lying on his chest. He uses their cloaks as blankets and begins to run his fingers through his husband’s hair, kissing his cheek and then his neck. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love-” Yeonjun pauses as a yawn interrupts him “-I love you too, honey.” 

Soobin laughs gently and sighs, the movements of his chest just barely jostling Yeonjun. 

“Good night,” he says. He hears Soobin hum and he closes his eyes, praying for sleep. 

It comes, unaccompanied by any nightmares or messages from any divine figures this time. Yeonjun sleeps amazingly for the first time in what feels like ages, though, in the back of his mind, he knows it’s only been a few months(?). Gods, he’s so tired. Soobin’s always been an insomniac, and Yeonjun wonders if this is how he feels normally. 

“You get used to it,” Soobin says with a shrug when Yeonjun asks him about it. “Sooner or later, bone-crushing exhaustion becomes . . . well, normal, I guess. And, I mean, I’ve been sleeping better - or, well, I suppose I  _ was _ sleeping better, and it’s not as bad. It used to be that I’d sit up all night, but now-”

“-You sleep like a rock,” Yeonjun says, smiling and nuzzling him. He sighs. “Gods, I just want this all to be over with. It’s so tiring.” 

“It’s been fifteen years and you’ve already decided to forfeit your throne?” Soobin says, tilting his head. Yeonjun laughs, tugging him close and ruffling his hair playfully. 

“No, you doofus, I’m just saying I don’t like this plague and this divine drama that we shouldn’t even be involved in.”

Soobin hums, nodding thoughtfully. Yeonjun giggles and sighs, letting his head fall back as he looks up at the ceiling of their little carriage. 

“We need to get a bigger carriage for when we go back,” he says. Soobin hums again, carding his fingers through his husband’s hair. 

“We do,” he says. “The horses - the ones we’re using - should be left to rest here. I think they’ll be fine, right?” 

Yeonjun nods. 

“Mm, yeah,” he says, beginning to feel a bit sleepy. He sighs, shaking his head and snuggling closer to Soobin. “Good night.” 

“We don’t even know what time it is, there’s so much fog.” 

“Sshh, sshh, sshh,” Yeonjun says, his eyes closed as he (hopefully) presses a finger to Soobin’s lips. “Yeonjunnie’s sleeping.” 

He hears Soobin sigh, and then he’s drifting off.

Yeonjun finds himself standing amongst a group of people. One of them he recognizes as the boy from his dream where Soobin challenged Jotrud, and he feels a bit of joy at the sight. He’s leaning against someone, resting his weight on a wooden crutch. As he looks around, Yeonjun sees his friends and family all crowded together in a sort of semi-circle. He even sees Seungmin, his body pressed against a small, burly-looking man, their hands clasped together. 

What makes it a nightmare, though, is the sight of his husband; Soobin stands near the front and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in centuries, his eyes bloodshot and his hair tangled. His lips are twisted into a somber expression, making it seem as if he’s preparing for some sort of tragedy. 

**“Why, hello there,”** a voice breaks through. The crowd remains still as a large, hulking creature slowly pushes its way into the clearing. Instead of being solid, the creature appears to be made of ink, and Yeonjun feels a flare of rage in his chest; though he’s assuming, he’s quite certain that the monster before him and the crowd is the one that currently runs rampant through the Ifanian countryside. 

“Aristok,” Soobin says coldly. He hits his sword on his shield two times before stabbing it into the ground and kneeling. Yeonjun can see how angry and humiliated he is. “We have come - we have come to bargain.” 

The monster seems to grin. 

**“Good, good, good,”** Aristok says. He looks around eagerly like a child searching through a toy shop.  **“I see you have brought them both. Were you hoping to regain something of your own, emperor?”**

Soobin grits his teeth but Yeonjun can also see his eyes grow watery as he grips the hilt of his sword tighter. 

“Father,” a voice suddenly says, breaking through Soobin’s pained silence. The Alpha lifts his head and turns to look at the crowd which has parted, revealing someone Yeonjun has seen before. His golden eyes are just as unnerving, but there’s a heartbroken quality about them, and Yeonjun feels a burst of sympathy for the dragon. 

“Seonghwa, don’t-” Soobin says, but the dragon simply lifts a hand, asking for silence. 

“Father,” he says again, opening his arms, “I have longed to meet you.” 

Aristok hums, his sinister smile dulling a bit as he stares at his son. 

**“I remember when you were born,”** he rumbles. He huffs.  **“Just a wee thing. I couldn’t have imagined this.”** He looks over his son and huffs, seemingly satisfied. The demigod in front of him clenches his jaw, and, like Soobin, Yeonjun sees that he has tears in his eyes.

“Do you . . . do you know my name?” he says. Aristok hums and tilts his head. 

**“Seonghwa,”** he says.  **“Torch.”**

The man nods, his lower lip quivering. He looks as if he’s seconds away from bursting into tears. 

“I will - I will give myself to you,” he says. Even with his giant wings, horns, and tail, Seonghwa looks horribly small. His father nods, pleased. 

**“Come here, little one,”** he says. Slowly, Seonghwa walks forward. Soobin reaches out and tries to grab his hand, though Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. Yeonjun thinks he mouths,  _ “Please don’t make it any harder.” _

“Seonghwa, wait!” a voice cries, and everyone stops. Seonghwa looks over his shoulder and Yeonjun sees someone pushing through the crowd, desperately trying to get to the man. As he gets closer, Yeonjun notices something clutched in his arms. It’s a small bundle pressed against his chest, and Yeonjun feels his eyes bulge out of his head as he realizes that it’s a baby. 

“Seonghwa,” the man says. Seonghwa looks at him, broken, and Yeonjun sees that this man is Seonghwa’s lover and this baby is his. 

“Hongjoong, please,” Seonghwa begs, grabbing his hands. “Don’t - I have to. So many people will die if I don’t.” 

“It’s not  _ fair _ !” Hongjoong shrieks. He turns to Aristok and gestures at his lover, tears running down his cheeks. “You - this is your own child! How - how can you even consider taking his life?!” 

**“Sacrifices must be made,”** Aristok hisses. Hongjoong scowls at him, his eyes dark and full of anger. He looks as if he’s ready to tear the god apart and he even goes so far as to hand Seonghwa his pup as he draws a sword. 

However, before he can do anything, a sudden light bursts through the clearing. As Yeonjun feels himself waking, he hears an angry roar. 

“Yeonjun, wake up!” 

Yeonjun yelps as his eyes fly open and he sits up, his forehead colliding with his husband’s. Both he and Soobin wince and rub their heads, sitting back. 

“Ugh, sorry,” Yeonjun says. Soobin shrugs. 

“It’s whatever,” he says. “Anyway, we have bigger things to worry about right now.” 

Yeonjun frowns. 

“Like-”

“They’re here!” someone from outside of the carriage suddenly calls. The vehicle halts and the two passengers are both jostled. Yeonjun grabs Soobin’s hand and squeezes to keep his balance as the sound of footsteps gets louder. Sungwoo can be heard as he jumps down, though nothing else comes from outside. 

“Is this - inside of the carriage, is that where the emperor and empress are?” one of the voices from outside says. Yeonjun and Soobin look at each other, wide-eyed and a bit scared. 

“Who are you?” Sungwoo says. 

“Everyone’s been looking for you three,” a new voice says. “No one - they - you all disappeared after leaving the Eastern Kingdom. Everyone - no one knew what happened to you.” 

Yeonjun jolts. 

_ “The kids,” _ he hisses at Soobin. Soobin nods and squeezes his hand. “They don’t - oh my gods.” 

Just then, the door to the carriage opens. Yeonjun and Soobin, with wide eyes, scramble back. There, Sungwoo stands, his cloak drawn over his face. Beside him, two guards stand. 

“Your Imperial Majesties,” one of them says, and then they both kneel. Yeonjun and Soobin cover their faces and nod. 

“Thank you,” Yeonjun says. He’s helped out of the carriage and holds a hand out to Soobin, lacing their fingers together. They walk along and Yeonjun feels a twinge of pain as he stares at the horses. 

“Hold on a moment,” he whispers to Soobin before walking toward the horses. He presses a hand against the neck of the closest one, watching carefully as it seems to regain some of its energy. He repeats the process just as his name is called and he runs over to his husband. 

“Sorry,” he says. Soobin shrugs. 

“It’s fine,” he says. “I don’t mind.” Yeonjun sighs and leans against him as they walk, his legs rather unused to walking now. 

“Gods, when was the last time we got out of the carriage?” Soobin says playfully. Yeonjun laughs, nuzzling his cheek. 

“We’re fine, aren’t we? Not that old yet.” 

Soobin laughs and shakes his head, continuing to trudge along. Much to Yeonjun’s relief, the fog has subsided a good amount, though it’s very cold. It makes him wonder how long he, Soobin, and Sungwoo have been missing. 

“Excuse me,” he says, walking toward one of the guards, “but how many months have passed since we left the east? My children-”

“It’s October now,” they say grimly. “When did you leave?” 

“Early summer, late May, maybe June,” Soobin says. Yeonjun feels panic flare through him as he tightens his grip on Soobin’s hand, looking up at him with wide eyes. Soobin nods at him, nuzzling the side of his face to comfort him. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 

“Are - how are - what’s it like back in the capital?” Yeonjun says. 

The smaller of the two guards shrugs and scoffs. 

“Hell if we know,” they say. Their comrade punches them in the arm. “I mean, well, we don’t exactly know. Nothing can get through this mist except if you’re going on horseback or something. Dragons always get lost and time slows there. So, we have yet to hear anything from them.”

“Then how-”

“Sometimes messengers can get through,” the taller soldier says. “We haven’t any idea why; all we know is that we got a message that you all were missing.” 

“When did it come?” 

“The middle of June,” the guard answers. They look over at the two rulers, their expression pitying even beneath the mask. “It was from General Jeon.” 

“Oh my gods,” Yeonjun says. “Soobin, the kids.” 

“If it gives you any comfort, Your Imperial Majesty,” the guard says quietly, “we have yet to hear anything about your family.”

Yeonjun forces a smile that he knows isn’t visible onto his face as he says, “Thank you.”

They continue walking until they reach the large gates of the northern capital. Yeonjun, Soobin, and Sungwoo all follow the guards through the empty city streets, shivering in the chill of October. There’s already snow blanketing the streets, surprisingly untouched. Their boots leave dark, brown prints in it, though Yeonjun is more worried about his children than anything else right now. 

It doesn’t take long for them to reach the palace. They’re greeted by more guards and new, clean fur cloaks. Yeonjun decides to hold onto his until he and Soobin have both bathed and changed the rest of their clothes. The king and queen greet them and then they’re shown their rooms, much to Yeonjun’s relief. 

As soon as he’s out of the bath, though, he writes a letter and prays that it gets to his children. Soobin sends a separate letter with a separate dragon, and then they both sit quietly in their room and wait. 

“Your Imperial Majesties?” a servant says. Soobin and Yeonjun both look up. “It’s time for dinner. Would you like it brought here?”

Yeonjun stands, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “We should thank our hosts, after all.” 

“We’re so happy to have you here,” the king says as they eat. Yeonjun nods mutely, allowing Soobin to take over. His food tastes like sawdust, though Yeonjun guesses it’s because of how anxious he is. Soobin rests a hand on his thigh under the table, squeezing lightly to try and offer some comfort. It doesn’t work for long, though. 

“Are - are you all right, Your Imperial Majesty?” the queen says. He’s shifted around to look politely at Yeonjun, his large eyes gentle and curious. 

“I’m fine,” Yeonjun says. The other man (though he seems to be much closer to a boy) seems to flinch a bit and Yeonjun feels embarrassed by his outburst. “I - I am weary from our travels.” He pauses, contemplating whether or not he should continue. “And - and I miss my children.”

The man smiles, then he reaches out and gently pats Yeonjun’s hands. The empress looks up at him and stares at this man - no, this  _ boy _ with his wide, gentle eyes and chubby cheeks. He’s far too young, especially for the man beside him, but arranged marriages are not something that need be outlawed. 

“It’s quite alright,” he says kindly. His smile is gentle and he reminds Yeonjun far too much of his own son. Gods, Minjun. He must be worried sick. 

“We’re hoping for some children of our own, actually,” the king says, looking at the boy. He nods, his sunshine-y mood seeming to have been dulled. He shifts in place and looks down, nodding. 

“Of course,” he says, though it comes out muffled. He shoves a bite of rice in his mouth, then, making it so he’s unable to speak. 

“Jisung here has some rather . . . sporadic heats,” the older male says, patting his husband. Jisung nods silently. While it doesn’t seem as if he’s abused, it’s clear that he isn’t happy. A golden cage is still a cage after all. 

“I’m - I wish you luck,” Soobin says. Surely, he sees how Jisung is as well. This young boy has no place in this palace. 

“Thank you,” the king says, smiling. Jisung nods again, and Yeonjun thinks he sees a tear slide down his cheek. 

He is later confronted by the young queen. It’s late at night and he’s walking through the halls of the castle, his own sleeping problems having gotten the best of him when he bumps into the other Omega. 

“Jisung-ssi!” he whispers. Jisung is holding a candle, swaddled in a fur cloak that covers his nightgown. 

“Your Imperial Majesty,” he says, bowing. He looks up. “I was - I was wondering if you were still awake.” 

Yeonjun hums, nodding. 

“I haven’t always been the greatest sleeper,” he says. “It gets worse after childbirth.” 

Jisung nods.

“So I’ve heard,” he says. He sounds . . . sad. “I - I am sorry, I must be bothering-”

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” Yeonjun says. He reaches out to pat Jisung on the head, as he is rather short. “I - um, when did you and . . .”

“Gi-Hoon.”

“When did you guys get married?” 

Jisung sighs. 

“Well,” he says, “it was arranged, as you can probably guess from our ages. I’m his . . . third queen I believe? I haven’t a clue, all I know is that he’s desperate for an heir. And so, I came along and my parents, in a last power surge, married me off. Ta-da!” 

Yeonjun frowns. 

“He doesn’t . . . is he abusive?”

Jisung shrugs. 

“He’s boring,” he says. “But I don’t - I don’t think he wants to hurt me. He just really, really wants a kid.” 

Yeonjun snorts. 

“And you don’t?” 

Jisung actually laughs at that. 

“Gods, no, not with him,” he says. He looks around. “And, between you and me, I think he might be sterile. None of my predecessors have gotten pregnant, so that’s my guess.” 

Yeonjun snorts, giggling behind his hand like he and Jisung are schoolboys gossiping about their classmates. 

“Oh, that doesn’t sound fun,” he says. “What do you plan on doing, then?” 

Jisung shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says. He sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll probably have some sort of donor or something. I’m bound to get pregnant sooner or later, whether it be by my husband or some hired help. Who knows?”

Yeonjun hums. 

“It . . . I’m sorry,” he says. 

“Why would you be sorry? The blame really lies on my parents; also, I’m quite certain that it could be much worse. Thanks to you and Emperor Soobin, my husband isn’t allowed to abuse me.”

“I just - I wish I could help you.” 

Jisung smiles gently at him, his eyes sad in the candlelight. 

“It’s fine,” he says. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hand. “I’ve long-since given up on pursuing that fairy-tale true love. In a situation like this, it’s just . . . let’s just say not everyone is as lucky as you.” 

Yeonjun opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of footsteps stops him as a guard appears. 

“Your Imperial Majesty, Your Majesty,” he says, bowing. He looks up and adjusts his helmet, his expression grim. “There’s a message for you.”


	8. Crackling Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun and Soobin return home, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnnnnnnnnnnnnng  
> streampansybytaemin

“You, go get Soobin,” Yeonjun says to the guard. He gestures at Jisung to follow him and begins walking through the halls, allowing his feet to guide him. He doesn’t exactly know where he’s going, but he has a feeling that Jisung does. 

The boy does, in fact, lead Yeonjun to the messenger. He’s a pile on the ground, panting and gasping for air. 

“Bring him - bring him some water, please,” Jisung stammers. Yeonjun reaches out to gently wrap an arm around his waist, patting his hip. Jisung looks up at him and nods gratefully. 

“What - what is it?” Soobin says as he appears. The messenger continues to drink and Jisung sits by his side, gently pressing a cold rag to his forehead. The messenger, Yeonjun notices, is another boy, close in age to Jisung himself. He’s still rather small but there’s muscle on him. His hair is brown and he’s rather handsome, with dainty features and soft eyes. Yeonjun senses the connection between the two before the messenger even speaks. He wonders if he should say anything, if he should warn Jisung to keep away from him or if he should tell the boy’s husband. In the end, though, Yeonjun decides to keep quiet. It’s not his place, after all. 

“There is - the - General Jeon requires that you return immediately,” the boy finally pants. He sucks in a deep breath, shaking his head. “He received your letter-”

“How? When? How did you get here so fast?” 

The boy shrugs as if it’s nothing when he really just came from the capital to deep into the far northern region of Ifan. 

“I had help, don’t make assumptions,” he mumbles. He picks at his ratty, falling-apart clothes and shifts in place, making his discomfort clear to the royals who watch him. “Don’t kill the messenger,” he grumbles under his breath. 

Soobin and Yeonjun both straighten, then, looking at each other and having a silent conversation with their eyes. 

“We would like to borrow some of your horses,” Yeonjun says then, turning to Jisung’s husband, whose name he still has yet to figure out. 

“Please,” Soobin adds. The king stares at them for a few moments before he nods, seemingly getting over his initial shock. 

“Yes, of course,” he says, nodding. He waves his hand, calling a servant over. 

“Get these two our best horses,” he says. The servant nods and rushes off as the rest of them watch her retreating form. 

“We’ll go pack,” Yeonjun says then. He turns to Jisung and takes his hands, squeezing them gently. “I wish you the best of luck.” 

Jisung nods, his eyes saying far more than the words he speaks. “And I, you.” 

Yeonjun squeezes his hands a final time before turning away and following Soobin down the hall. They pack their bags and grab their cloaks, securing them around their necks. All the while, Yeonjun’s body thrums with adrenaline, his heart beating excitedly inside of his chest. Soobin comes up behind him and kisses him quickly before they exit their room, rushing through the corridors of the castle. 

“Gods, let’s pray we get there as quickly as the messenger did here,” Soobin says as they walk. Yeonjun nods, squeezing Soobin’s hands. 

When they get outside, Jisung is wrapped in a thick fur cloak as he prepares to see them off. The messenger is standing beside him, watching all of them carefully. The sun, Yeonjun notices, is already beginning to peek out from the edge of the horizon, shyly spreading its rays over the snowy scenery. 

“Gods, it’s cold,” he hears Jisung mumble, shifting his cloak about. Soobin hums as Yeonjun walks up to one of the horses, reaching up to press his hand against the animal’s snout. It huffs and nuzzles into his hand, closing its eyes. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. The horse huffs again as if it’s telling him to get on. Yeonjun laughs as he moves and climbs up onto the animal, shifting about a bit. 

“Stay safe,” Jisung says as he watches them get ready to leave. Yeonjun nods, leaning down to grab his hand. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, praying he can make good on the statement. Then, he and Soobin start their horses and off they go. 

It’s freeing to ride a horse. The wind laughs with Yeonjun when he throws his head back, yelling happily. Soobin laughs at him and Yeonjun turns to give him a giant grin as the wind tousles his hair, running its invisible fingers through the indigo curls. 

“Whoop, whoop!” he yells at the very top of his lungs as their horses gallop through. His steed neighs in return, leaping over a log. 

“Race you!” Soobin says then before he takes off. Yeonjun laughs again and flattens himself as he speeds his horse up, grinning as he follows his husband through the forest. 

And then, suddenly, they’re at the palace gates. It’s not as if time moves in a blur, no, they quite literally appear at the gates. Yeonjun is rendered speechless and breathless by it, his heart pounding in against his ribcage. He reaches a shaky hand up and places it on his chest over the organ, looking around. 

“Your Imperial Majesties!” a voice says, startling the two men. Yeonjun jumps a bit before he looks in the direction of the guard, recognizing Seungmin. 

“Seungmin!” he says as he dismounts. “What - what are you doing here?” 

The boy shrugs. 

“Hyung wanted me to look out to welcome you guys in,” he says. He gestures to the other guard to take their horses. “You’ll want to come quickly; they’re planning to start the council as soon as you two get in.” 

“All right,” Soobin says, straightening and changing his expression into a serious, somber one. He offers Yeonjun his arm and together they follow Seungmin into the palace. Around them, servants stare openly at the two, though Yeonjun doesn’t mind; he’s long-since grown used to having eyes on him at all times.

“Here,” Seungmin says, stepping to the side to allow them into the council room. Soobin and Yeonjun walk in together, moving to take their seats at the table. 

“Eomma, Appa!” Minjun cries, leaping from his seat and throwing himself at his parents. Yeonjun opens his arms and catches his son, tears brimming his eyes as he hugs him as tightly as possible. Minjun squeezes his arms around his torso and buries his face in his chest, sniffling quietly. Soobin joins in, sandwiching Minjun between the two of them. 

“My baby,” Yeonjun whispers. He kisses the top of Minjun’s head. “Oh, my little baby.” 

Minjun sniffles, nuzzling further into his mother’s chest. He smells sweet, his scent soft and comforting as it enters Yeonjun’s nose. Gods, he just wants to hold his son forever. 

“Eomma, Appa,” he says quietly, his voice muffled by his parents’ embrace, “you should start the meeting now.” 

Yeonjun huffs, pressing himself closer to Minjun, though he knows that the boy is right. So, he sighs and reluctantly releases him, sitting down. He still continues to look longingly at his son, fiddling with his cloak beneath the table. 

“What - what happened?” says Hoseok, the first to speak up. “Are you both okay? Would you like - would you rather we have this at a later date, after you’ve both rested?”

Soobin looks over at Yeonjun, silently asking him what he thinks. 

“I don’t mind, do you, Soobin?” Yeonjun says to his husband. Soobin, thankfully, looks relieved. 

“No, in fact, I’d prefer it,” he says. He shifts in place, getting comfortable. “So, I suppose Yeonjun and I have a lot of explaining to do, yes?” 

They talk and talk and talk until Yeonjun feels as if he’s seconds away from passing out from exhaustion. His eyelids are growing heavier with each moment that passes, all of them stealing bits of his consciousness as they go along. There is a discussion of the beast and how it’s begun to grow more aggressive, now attacking livestock. Yeonjun knows someone’s writing down the details given and the things discussed, and for that, he’s eternally grateful because he can doze off without having to worry about not remembering things. It reminds him a bit of his lessons from when he was a child, where he’d space out or run off and then flunk everything. It’s not that he was or is stupid; Yeonjun simply never found it in himself to be interested in what he was taught. 

“Oh, gods,  _ finally, _ ” he groans as he stumbles out of the room. Soobin laughs as he follows behind, sighing. 

“Gonna go pass out,” he mumbles. Yeonjun hums and agreement as they half-limp half-walk down the hall to their bedroom. 

“Minjun! Jihwan! Chan-Young!” Yeonjun calls at the top of his lungs, his voice growing hoarse. Despite that, his sons still show up. Yeonjun grins widely at them. 

“It’s nap time with Mama,” he says before he drags them along. Minjun laughs and Jihwan protests while Chan-Young goes along with his family happily. Either way, they all end up in Soobin’s and Yeonjun’s bed, piled around and on top of each other. It’s warm here and Yeonjun longs to build a nest. Soobin can sense it and he gently nudges the kids out of the bed and gestures at Yeonjun to do his thing. Happily, the older makes his nest before curling up and patting the spaces around him. 

“Mm, love you, Eomma,” Minjun mumbles as he snuggles close to him. Yeonjun smiles, kissing the top of his head. 

“I love you too, Minnie,” he murmurs as his eyes droop. He sighs happily and closes his eyes, finally,  _ finally _ allowing his exhaustion to win him over. 

He has no dreams, but, when he wakes up, it’s with a start and a very urgent thought on his mind. He wakes Soobin because of it, though hushes him to make sure the children stay sleeping. 

“ _ Seonghwa _ ,” he hisses. Soobin blinks sleepily at him, still trying to wake himself up. Yeonjun sighs, clicking his tongue and flicking his husband’s forehead. “The dragon, his name is Seonghwa. The son-” Yeonjun swallows hard “-the son of Aristok.” 

Even saying the name seems to lower the temperature in the room, and Chan-Young proves this by shivering his sleep. At the smallest bit of movement, both Yeonjun and Soobin look over at their sleeping sons, checking to make sure none of them have woken up yet. 

“What are you - what?” Soobin says, turning back to face Yeonjun. 

“In - in my dream,” Yeonjun says. “His name - Aristok called him Seonghwa.” 

“Seonghwa?” Soobin says, frowning and tilting his head. 

“We need - we need to figure out who he is,” Yeonjun says. 

Soobin’s frown deepens. 

“How - how would we find him, though?” he asks. “We - it - there are so many people in the empire, it’d be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Impossible, really. We don’t even have a last name.” 

“Well, I think the dragon features should be a dead giveaway,” Yeonjun drawls. Soobin, unfortunately, doesn’t appear amused. He sighs. 

“I hate this,” he says quietly. “Gods, I hate this so much. Why - why? What have we done wrong? What went wrong?” 

“It isn’t our fault that Aristok grew angry after losing the war,” Yeonjun says. “It . . . in a way, I think we should’ve . . . I think we should’ve expected it. But - well, we did have fifteen years free of it, so I doubt that - I just think that it was intentional, so we’d lower our guard.” 

Soobin sighs, still frustrated. 

“Do you remember,” he says, sitting back, “the little boy who came up to me after my speech before the final battle?” 

Yeonjun furrows his brow and searches through his memory, trying to recall. 

“He - he was six or seven, right?” 

Soobin nods slowly. 

“And do you remember what his name was?” Soobin says. He sounds broken, his voice shaking. 

“No,” Yeonjun says. It’s a lie, really, but he can’t bear to hear the name any longer. Soobin had been enamored with the boy, had thought of him as an example of the children he fought for. He’d been a civilian who’d believed in Soobin, something he hadn’t expected. It had stuck, really, and Soobin has always wanted to meet him again to thank him. 

“His name,” Soobin says, stopping to swallow down the lump in his throat, “was Seonghwa.” 

“It might - they might not be the same person,” Yeojun protests. “He wasn’t - he wasn’t a dragon, was he?” 

Soobin sighs softly, turning to look out the window. They both know that it’d be a crazy coincidence if both Seonghwas were the same person and that it’s highly unlikely. 

Yet, as unlikely as it seems, Yeonjun has a feeling in his gut that fate doesn’t care. Which only makes it harder. 

“Not - not to be the devil’s advocate, but - well, it’s one life in the faces of countless others. Do - is it truly worth - is he really worth more than our own subjects and family?” 

Soobin sighs. 

“You’re right,” he says. “And - well, Aristok also said he’d be easier to . . . find, I guess. And then, of course, there’s the fact that Risauri would tear us apart if we hurt their child. I’d really prefer to avoid angering another god.” 

Yeonjun nods, sighing. 

“Why do the gods always have to drag us mortals into these problems?” he grumbles as he gets to his feet. He checks to make sure all of his sons are still sleeping before he heads out, Soobin following closely behind. 

They end up commissioning a drawing of Seonghwa. Yeonjun searches his memory as best as he can to describe the man, watching nervously over the artist’s shoulder. 

“He’s a handsome guy,” Taehyung comments as he continues to sketch. Yeonjun hums, nodding. 

“He’s your little brother,” he murmurs before he can think better of it. The words seem to stop Taehyung’s hand and he stiffens, looking up from the paper and at Yeonjun. 

“What?” he breathes. “I - I have a little brother?” 

Yeonjun bites his lip, wishing he could’ve done the same with his tongue before. He shouldn’t have said that. 

“Yeonjun-ah,” Taehyung says, leaning forward and forcing eye contact with the empress. “Is it true? Is this-” he chokes a bit “-is Aristok asking for my little brother?” 

“Yes,” Yeonjun finally says, murmuring it in a vain hope to keep the older man from hearing it. Taehyung sits back with a loud sigh, setting the pad aside and putting his head in his hands. 

“Gods,” he whispers. “We’re not the only ones. There are - there are more of us.” 

“We weren’t sure if we should tell you or not,” Yeonjun says. He picks at his dress. “I - we - Soobin and I, we weren’t - we didn’t know how you three would react.” 

“Because we’ve already lost one brother?” Taehyung says from where he hides his face in his hands, his words muffled. He looks up and his eyes seem to be tinged red. “Yeonjun, I-” he pauses, looking down “-I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Would . . . would you like me to tell Yoongi-Hyung and Hoseok-Hyung?” Yeonjun says quietly. Taehyung sighs. 

“I think we should all have a meeting. Just - just the pack to discuss this.” He grabs his paper. “Anyway, we need to get this poster out. If not to - to sacrifice him, then at least so we can have some sort of family reunion. It - it would be nice to meet him.” 

Yeonjun offers a gentle smile before he continues to describe Seonghwa. 

“Everyone,” Taehyung says as they eat lunch together, gently hitting his glass with his chopsticks, “I have something to say.”

Yeonjun looks up at him, silently asking if he’s going to tell. The older man nods subtly and Soobin turns to his husband, tilting his head in question. 

“He - I think they should know that they have another brother,” he whispers, leaning over. Soobin nods.

“Okay,” he says. 

“Hyungs,” Taehyung says, turning to Yoongi and Hoseok. The two brothers look up and Taehyung shifts. He twiddles his thumbs and chews on his lower lip. 

“Taehyung-ah?” Yoongi says. “Are - is everything all right?” 

“Are you pregnant again?” Hoseok chimes. Yoongi kicks him under the table. 

“No, no, no, it’s none of that,” Taehyung says, waving his hands. Seungjun looks at his mother and tilts his head curiously.

“I just - well,” Taehyung inhales quickly before saying, “There’s another person out there like us.” 

“What do you mean?” Yoongi says carefully, eying his brother. 

“I mean - I mean that there are more . . . more half-gods. Demigods.” Taehyung shifts in his seat, poking at his food and moving it around his bowl. Then, he looks up at his brothers. “We have - we have a younger brother.” 

There is a moment of silence, a calm before the storm, and then Yoongi leaps from his seat. 

“That  _ bastard, _ ” he hisses. “That fucking man-whore, going out and leaving his children everywhere. Gods damn him, he can rot in hell for all I care.” He scowls. “Where is he? Is he alive? Is he here?” 

“We don’t - I don’t know,” Taehyung says. He seems to cower away from Yoongi’s wrath, though Yeonjun can’t blame him; after all, he’s far from the only one. The oldest seems to radiate a pure aura of fury and betrayal, scaring the rest of his pack away with it. Only Jimin, Chaeyoung, Eun-Ji, and Hae-Seong seem to be okay with it. 

“Does - do you know his name?” Hoseok says quietly. He’s staring at his food, his expression blank. Hueningkai gently places a hand on his and looks at him worriedly, though Hoseok doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Does he?” he says, looking up at his little brother. Taehyung looks over at Soobin and Yeonjun, his lower lip wedged between his teeth. 

“His name is Seonghwa,” Yeonjun says. “You - a few of you might remember him from before the final battle in the war.” 

Hoseok’s head jerks up, then, and his eyes widen. 

“That - that’s him?” he says. He frowns, then he lifts his hands and looks them over. “I couldn’t - but I couldn’t - Adonis didn’t say anything.” He digs his nails into his palms and an expression that seems to portray anger. With how foreign it is to Yeonjun, he assumes that’s the emotion that’s been painted on Hoseok’s face. “They didn’t - they didn’t tell me about my own brother?”

“Would Huening have been able to sense it? Jimin-Hyung?” Taehyun says. “I mean, I don’t know because I can’t do what you two can, but can you tell when a person is a demigod?” 

“I can’t,” Jimin says, “though I know when a person is a host.” 

“What’s a host, Eomma?” Chan-Young says. 

“Uncle Hoseok and Uncle Yoongi and Uncle Jimin were all hosts,” Yeonjun says. “It - well, I think they’d explain it better than me. Ask them later, all right?” 

“Wait a second,” Sarang says then, frowning. She gestures to Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok. “I - well, we all know that Aristok is your father because he - because your father hosted him, but how did . . . Seonghwa, I guess, how did Seonghwa come to be? Not that I wouldn’t put him above an affair, but I just . . .” she sits back, raising her eyebrows and thinning her lips into a line. “Gods, what a piece of work.” 

“We have to find him,” Yoongi says then. “We need to bring him here, to make sure - to make sure he doesn’t take after - after-” he chokes on the word and Jimin squeezes his hand. Eun-Ji gets up from her seat and walks over, nuzzling her mother. 

“We don’t really have a choice,” Soobin says grimly. He stares at his food before he sighs heavily and puts his chopsticks down, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. “You all are going to want to sit down for this.” 

“What is it?” Hoseok says, frowning. “Is - is he okay? Did something happen to him? What-”

“Excuse me?” a voice says, breaking through Hoseok’s words. Everyone turns to the entrance of the dining hall and they all see the servant there. His eyes are wide as he wrings his hands nervously, clearing uncomfortable beneath so many sets of eyes. 

“What is it?” Soobin says. 

The servant shifts his weight on his feet. 

“There - from Aestrath, we - one of their criminals has escaped and come here,” he says nervously. Soobin frowns and Yeonjun arches his eyebrow. 

“Tell them-”

“He killed one of their highest-ranking generals,” the servant blurts, then. “They - they say that the body - that he died from getting his throat torn out, but they couldn’t - the wound was - it was sealed over by something akin to - to tar.” His voice lowers to whisper as he says, “Something similar to the plague.” 

Soobin stands so quickly that his chair falls back. 

“When did this happen?” he demands. “How long has he been on the run?” 

“Since early October, Your Imperial Majesty.” 

Jimin scowls in his seat as he gets to his feet. 

“Why the hell didn’t they tell us before?” he grumbles. “If there’s a murder with strange abilities running about and they suspect he’s here, shouldn’t they tell us?” 

“Do they have a name? A face, something we can look out for?” Seungmin says. Yeonjun forgot he was there. 

“It’s - his name is Seonghwa,” the servant says. Everyone in the room stops moving. 

“What?” Beomgyu says quietly. “Could you - could you please repeat that?” 

“Seonghwa,” the servant says. “Park Seonghwa.” 

They all turn to look at each other with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Seonghwa? Could it be?

“Do - do they know what he looks like? Did they send a sketch or anything?” Jeongguk says, gesturing to the rest of them to close their mouths. 

The servant reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of parchment. He walks over to Jeongguk and bows as he offers it, stepping back quickly as if he’s afraid of him. 

“Tae, do you have the picture?” Jeongguk says. Taehyung nods, patting his skirts before cursing quietly under his breath. 

“Hold on a minute,” he says. “I left it back in the library. I’ll be back soon, just give me a minute to go and get it.” 

Jeongguk nods slowly, frowning as he looks over the drawing. So far, he’s the only one who’s seen it. Yeonjun isn’t sure if he wants to. 

“Here it is,” Taehyung says as he re-appears in the doorway. He moves around the servant and over to Jeongguk, holding the piece of parchment in his hand. Everyone crowds around the two of them, craning their necks to see. 

They are very nearly identical. Seonghwa’s eyes in the picture from Aestrath are . . . well, they’re the eyes of a human, though in Taehyung’s drawing, he’s much more reptilian. But it’s clearly the same . . . person, for lack of a better term, who was drawn. The two pictures stare blankly at them, blank, identical stares boring into what feels like Yeonjun’s soul. 

“Oh my gods,” Hoseok says. He stumbles a bit. “I think I’m gonna pass out.” 

“Eomma!” Bora cries as the Omega falls. Hueningkai’s hand shoots out and a burst of magic catches his husband, though Hoseok remains unconscious. Meanwhile, everyone else stares at the portraits, varying levels of fear dancing over their faces. 

“We should - we should get copies of these made to place around the empire,” Minjun mumbles. Everyone turns to look at the boy. “It - that’s why you asked for Uncle Taehyung to do it, right? So we could make posters. That way, if people see him, then they’ll be able to call someone to pick him up and bring him here.” 

“Yeah, yes, of course,” Yeonjun says, shaking his head. He smiles at Minjun, hoping he doesn’t seem to tense. “Thanks for the reminder, I’m sorry.” 

Minjun shrugs, then he hugs Yeonjun gently and presses his face into his chest. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says quietly, his words a bit muffled by Yeonjun’s chest. Yeonjun smiles and wraps his arms around his son, sighing as he rests his cheek on the top of his head. 

“I’m glad to be back,” he says. Minjun hums, nodding as they begin to sway in place. Chan-Young seems to get jealous and he runs at them, wiggling between his mother and older brother to get into the hug. 

“Hey, Channie,” Yeonjun says, looking down to find his youngest. Chan-Young giggles and hugs his legs, Minjun grumbling and trying to pull away. 

“Nope, come back here,” Yeonjun says, tugging him over. Minjun snorts and whines a little as he’s dragged back, pretending to struggle. “Jihwannie!” 

The little boy looks up and then groans. 

“Eomma,” he whines, “I don’t wanna.” 

“Nonsense. Of course, you wanna hug your eomma,” Yeonjun says. He waddles over to Jihwan and pulls him into a hug, sighing happily as he stands with his children. Gods, why couldn’t everything stay this way?

They begin making copies of the posters of Seonghwa later that day. A lot of magic goes into it, though Hueningkai is torn over whether or not he should be tending to the sick or working on the posters. They’d later discussed what Aristok had asked for, then they’d decided that they’d take Seonghwa to the old god’s temple. 

“And if he doesn’t want to, which I’m certain is the case, what will we do?” Jeongguk says. 

“We’ll figure something out,” Soobin says. 

“He’s a dragon, and most certainly stronger than all of us,” Yoongi says, frowning and drumming his nails on the table. 

“Do we have any cells strong enough to hold him in? We don’t know how powerful he is,” Taehyun says. He sighs, chewing on his lower lip. “Do you think we’ll have to build one?” 

“As deep as we can put it,” Soobin says. 

“Appa, what if it . . . but what if he wants to help us and we just throw him into a cell? How likely do you think it’ll be that he’ll go willingly then?” Minjun says, tilting his head. 

“We don’t exactly . . . we don’t exactly know the entire story of the murder,” Chaeyoung mumbles, agreeing with her cousin. “It could’ve been self-defense. The government in Aestrath is supposed to be a bit rocky right now, isn’t it?” 

“You’re both right,” Hoseok says. He looks around the room. “Maybe - maybe I can try and talk to Adonis to see if they can sense him. They might . . . I don’t know, I just . . .” he sighs and his shoulders slump “I just feel a bit like we’re missing something. Like we don’t have all of the puzzle pieces to judge him.” 

“He  _ is _ our brother,” Taehyung says. “Half-brother, but brother nonetheless.” 

“But he’s also Aristok’s son,” Yoongi says. “Who knows what he could be capable of?” 

“We still don’t know, though,” Hoseok argues. “For all we know, Seonghwa could’ve been doing it for his own good and the government over there could’ve twisted the story around to make him the villain.” 

“He shouldn’t - Soobin-ah, Yeonjun-ah, what do you two think? You met the ruler there, right? What were they like?” Yoongi says. 

“They - they weren’t pleasant people, but I don’t . . . I didn’t really think that she was a tyrant. She seemed like a decent person, I suppose,” Soobin says. “Yeonjun, what did - what did you think of them the last time we met?” 

“Cold,” Yeonjun says. “But - but Iseul didn’t . . . actually, well, I wouldn’t put it above her to do such a thing.” He frowns. “He - but Seonghwa still - until we find out what’s going on, we have to keep our guard up. Better safe than sorry, right?” 

“Eomma!” Minjun protests. Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“None of you,” he says, gesturing to the children, “should leave palace grounds until all of this is resolved, understand? My old rule still stands.”

“But-”

“No but’s!” Yeonjun says. “That’s final. All of you will stay here. It’s too dangerous.” 

Minjun scowls at him before getting up and storming off. Yeonjun also gets up to try and follow him, but Soobin places a hand on his thigh and shakes his head. He gestures, then, at the other empty seat. It’s where Byeol was sitting. 

Yeonjun turns his head to see his niece following his son, and then he sighs. He supposes he can’t blame Minjun for being angry with him for his decision; he’s fifteen, he doesn’t want to be cooped up in one place for an indeterminate amount of time. And here Yeonjun is, saying he isn’t allowed to leave. Could anyone  _ really _ blame him? 

“We should start looking for him immediately,” Jeongguk says then, the first to break the silence. Everyone turns to look at him and Yeonjun feels himself nod weakly, though his heart and mind are still with his son and niece. He just wishes he could somehow console Minjun, though he knows that it’s more likely to make it worse right now. It’s best for everyone if he just takes a step back for now. 

“Will you go and check on him?” Yeonjun says as everyone begins to clean up. Soobin smiles down at him and then leans down to kiss the top of Yeonjun’s head. 

“Of course,” he says. He squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’m sure he won’t stay made; after all, he’s always had a special place for you.” 

Yeonjun sighs, resting his chin on his hand as he smiles weakly at his mate. 

“Just make sure he’s okay?” Yeonjun says as Soobin gets ready to walk away. “I - I’m just a little worried about him.” 

Soobin smiles gently at him. 

“Of course, Yeonjunnie,” Soobin says. Yeonjun watches him walk off for a few seconds before he decides that something’s wrong and chases after his husband. Soobin looks worried but then Yeonjun presses their lips together, gently curling his fingers into Soobin’s hair. 

“I love you,” he breathes when they come apart. Soobin smiles sweetly at him and kisses his forehead. 

“I love you too,” he says. He smiles. “It’s going to be alright. There’s no need to worry.”

Yeonjun smiles weakly, hugging Soobin close. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m just - yeah. I don’t know, I just . . . I feel bad.” 

Soobin sighs, humming. 

“You’re doing what you can to protect your children and the rest of your family,” Soobin says. “While Minjun might not see that now, he’s going to realize it later. Just give him time, yeah?” 

Yeonjun sighs back, burying his face in the crook of Soobin’s neck.

“Yeah, okay, I know,” he mumbles. He pulls away, trying to smile. “You’ll check on him, right, though? He - I’m just - you know me.” 

Soobin laughs, smiling gently as he tucks a lock of hair behind Yeonjun’s ear and kisses him on his forehead. 

“I’ve been married to you for sixteen years,” he says. “We dated for two years, and we’ve known each other for three decades. Of course, I know you.” 

“Well, there’s no need to be mean about it,” Yeonjun says. Soobin laughs at him and shakes his head as he walks off, waving over his shoulder. Yeonjun watches him go before he sighs, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. 

“Gods help us all,” he says under his breath as he begins to walk to the infirmary. 

There, nurses and doctors bustle around the beds. Their faces are covered and they’re wearing gloves to keep from accidentally coming in contact with the plague, though Yeonjun has a feeling that it’s done more for the comfort of the medical staff rather than being based on real reason. 

“Oh, hey, Hyung,” Hueningkai says quickly as he dashes by, Seungmin at his heels. The two of them zig-zag through the maze of beds, checking on patients. Yeonjun, having decided that he most certainly won’t be able to get a hold of his dongsaeng or his dongsaeng’s assistant, goes to get Taehyung. 

“Hyung!” he says. Taehyung looks over and smiles tiredly at him as he walks toward the younger man. 

“What are you doing here?” he says. “Did something happen? Is everything all right?” 

Yeonjun shrugs. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. He looks around and frowns. “Have you guys been sleeping?” 

“It was hard while you and Soobin were away,” Taehyung says. “Everyone was so worried about you two - a lot of us ended up staying up to try to see if you would come sometime during the night.”

“Sorry again,” Yeonjun says, drawing a shrug from Taehyung. 

“It’s not your fault,” he says. He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he shakes his head. “Gods, though. I really hate my dad. He’s a fucking asshole.” 

Yeonjun laughs quietly, covering his mouth with his hand to keep from disturbing any of the patients. 

“You aren’t wrong,” he says. Taehyung snorts, throwing his head back. 

“Of course, I’m not wrong. That god doesn’t deserve shit from us, and not even from Seonghwa,” he says. “But, of course, he’s a god, so he can get more than he deserves if he wants it.”

Yeonjun hums in agreement.

“What . . . what do you think about your brother being a murderer?” he says. 

Taehyung shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I mean - well, I suppose that we can’t - we don’t exactly have anything to judge him on, except for a moment from his childhood and - and this. So for all we know, he could be falsely accused or he could be coming to kill  _ us _ .” He laughs drily. “Gods, I don’t know. I just want Aristok to get the fuck out of here and quit throwing his stupid, stupid fit. He lost, he needs to get over it.” 

Yeonjun snorts.

“You said it, not me,” he says. Taehyung laughs and shakes his head, then a doctor calls for him. 

“Well, that’s my cue,” he says. “I’ll see you at dinner.” 

Yeonjun nods and waves at the other man as he walks away. Taehyung waves back and then turns to the patient requiring his assistance as Yeonjun turns around and walks out. He greets the servants and guards he passes, waving and offering small smiles. He hopes they can’t tell that his heart isn’t really in it. 

When dinner comes, Yeonjun leaps at the possibility of talking to Minjun. He drums his nails on the table as he sits and waits for the food to be served, looking around to try and catch him. 

But Minjun is uncharacteristically late to dinner, though Yeonjun still feels relief course through him when he sees his son enter. Minjun sits down and begins to eat quietly, keeping his eyes on his food. 

They don’t talk during dinner, though Yeonjun goes to seek Minjun out after the meal. He knocks gently on the door, chewing on his lower lip. 

“Come in!” Minjun says from inside. Slowly, Yeonjun opens the door and leans against the doorframe. 

“Minnie?” he says. Minjun looks up from his book and stares at his mother.

“Eomma?” He gets up, putting the book down. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun says. He wrings his hands. “I just - I know you don’t - I know that it’s important to you that you get to go out to do . . . well, that you get to go out see the kingdom, but - but I don’t want to risk it. It’s not - it isn’t that I don’t trust you because I do and I know-”

“Eomma,” Minjun interrupts, smiling gently, “it’s okay.” 

Yeonjun stares at the boy. Minjun is nearly as tall as he is, he notes, and he seems to have an air about him that makes Yeonjun think of Soobin. He holds himself well. 

“You’re growing up too fast,” he blurts, his voice more sob-like than he’d like to admit. Minjun, at least, laughs and hugs his mother, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. 

“Eomma,” he says, his voice chiding, “I don’t have a choice.” 

“Yeah, I know, but couldn’t you slow it down a bit? Just a little bit? You’re already so tall . . .” 

Minjun laughs, pressing himself closer to Yeonjun with a happy sigh. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “You’ll probably have to go and ask Uncle Huening for some magic to slow me down.” 

“Gods, it’s going by so fast,” Yeonjun says. He pulls away, though he keeps his arms secured around his son’s waist and clicks his tongue. “You’re going to be such a great ruler.” 

Minjun blushes anad laughs. 

“Eomma!” he says. 

“What?” Yeonjun asks. “It’s true! Trust me on this, Minnie. You’re going to be even better than your father and I.” 

“You’re just biased,” Minjun says as he snuggles against Yeonjun. The older Omega laughs, pressing his cheek against Minjun’s hair and sighing happily. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he says. “But I still think you’re going to do a spectacular job, even if you yourself don’t see it yet. You’re going to go down in history, Minnie.” 

Minjun snorts, shaking his head. 

“Okay, okay,” he says. “No need to overdo it.” 

“I’m not!” Yeonjun says as his son begins to get ready for bed. “I’m just telling the truth.” 

“Mmhmm, sure.” 

Yeonjun laughs, shaking his head. 

“Gods, you’re too much sometimes, Minnie,” he says. Minjun turns and grins at him, blowing a kiss over his shoulder as his mother begins to leave. 

“Love you!” he calls. Yeonjun grins brightly. 

“I love you too,” he says gently as he leaves. 

He has another nightmare that night. Or, well, it doesn’t exactly start that way - instead, Yeonjun finds himself at a party, though the faces of all of the guests are blurred. Well, except for a select five; Yeonjun recognizes Seonghwa as one of them, but the rest of the faces belong to people he’s never seen before. 

One of the people, a young man with narrow eyes and a face that seems to resemble Seonghwa’s, making Yeonjun wonder if they’re brothers or related by any chance, says something before leaving. Seonghwa’s other companion, a tall man with a soft, smiling face, does the same, leaving the man alone. He looks around, probably bored, but then someone catches his eye. It’s Hongjoong, Yeonjun realizes, the Omega from the dream with Aristok. He can’t see why Seonghwa didn’t notice him sooner, as the Omega is quite beautiful. Seonghwa seems to think the same thing as he walks over to him and offers his hand for a dance. 

It isn’t long before the two have found themselves in one of the house bedrooms. They kiss and undress each other, though Yeonjun turns away and covers his eyes before things can escalate further. 

But the dream shifts before it can, and it brings him to Seonghwa running through moonlit city streets, a small bag clutched in his hands. He reaches a large manor and clambers over the fence, then uses the ivy crawling over the wall to get to a window. It opens, and Hongjoong welcomes him inside of his room with open arms, smiling brightly as he kisses him, the bag left forgotten on the table as they make love deep into the night. 

Again, though, the dream shifts and Seonghwa breathes a confession to Hongjoong, releasing his feelings and offering his heart to the other man. Hongjoong cries as he kisses him, thanking him and holding him close. And then, in the blink of an eye, they’re standing together in Hongjoong’s room, Seonghwa’s hand on his lover’s stomach as word of the child growing inside of him escapes. 

Yeonjun prays that there is a happy ending to the story, though he has a feeling that these are all things that have happened before. Because, soon enough, Seonghwa is rushing out of his shabby little house and into the streets of his city, pushing through the crowd and toward the manor. At the doors, two guards stand. Faster than Yeonjun can see, Seonghwa lunges and they both fall, blood spurting from their necks. However, the wounds are quick to close up as a thick, dark essence covers them, and Yeonjun feels his throat close up as he stumbles after Seonghwa. 

Though the words are silent, Yeonjun can still see what’s going on; Hongjoong stands in the corner of his destroyed bedroom, hugging himself in attempts to keep the shreds of his clothes on. A man looks down on him as Hongjoong begs desperately, tears painting his cheeks. 

Seonghwa enters, then, having kicked the door down, and he faces off with the other Alpha. His eyes flicker between brown and golden, his teeth sharpening. On the nape of his neck, small scales have already begun to push through his skin, though Seonghwa has yet to notice them. 

And, besides, he’s just lunged at the other Alpha. He doesn’t stand a chance as the demigod sinks his teeth into his neck, tearing his throat out with a horrific level of ability. Blood spurts everywhere and a silver blade appears in Seonghwa’s hand as he steps back, terrified by his actions. He turns to speak to Hongjoong, but instead, the other man says something and then hugs him. He kisses him despite the blood that stains Seonghwa’s lips and they argue a bit before Seonghwa kisses him again and then runs. Yeonjun follows him as he steals a horse and attempts to escape, though he’s later overtaken by a group of guards. 

But the story doesn’t end there. Yeonjun finds Seonghwa in a cell and a strikingly familiar boy comes to help him, though Yeonjun can’t remember where he’s seen him before. But he gives Seonghwa the key and tells him something before leaving. 

Seonghwa leaves a little later. He runs through the silent city and to a rocky shore, climbing into the small boat. Yeonjun’s heart twists as he rows away, watching worriedly as the waters grow rougher with each passing moment. It isn’t long before Seonghwa is tossed beneath the waves and he sinks, floundering about. 

A chill runs down Yeonjun’s spine, then, as Seonghwa struggles to return to the surface. Somehow, he manages, and he grabs onto his boat, vomiting seawater. His hair is plastered to his face as the waves jostle him, heavy rain making it even worse. Seonghwa opens his mouth in shock as a huge wave envelops him, crashing down on the demigod. 

At that, Yeonjun feels himself gasp. His own lungs feel inadequate as he watches Seonghwa struggle, cheeks puffed as he tries to hold his breath. He shuts his eyes, then, as another wave takes the place of its predecessor, pushing Seonghwa deeper into the waters of the Turwe. He flounders about, trying to swim up, but no mortal can match the power of Risauri. 

However, Yeonjun’s worries are stolen from Seonghwa when a flash of movement catches his eye. A sort of sea serpent is swimming toward Seonghwa, though it appears as if he can’t see because the dumbass  _ fucking closed his eyes _ .

His dream ends, though, as two giant, golden orbs break through the darkness of the ocean’s depths.


	9. Rattling Chests and Gasping Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee  
> Also this is gonna be the only full book I’m sorry so it’s just going to be thirteen super long shorts that have one or two parts sry it’s just easier for me and I think it’d be better and the rest of this is going to be one big part so 🤷

Yeonjun gasps as he sits up, his eyes wide. He looks around the room, then shakes his head and lies down. His heart is racing at a million miles a minute and it’s doing nothing to help him go back to sleep. 

Yeonjun sighs, pressing his palms over his eyes as he tries to clear his mind. 

_ Oh, gods, don’t be dead, _ he thinks.  _ Please don’t be dead, Seonghwa. _

Of course, Yeonjun receives no answer because Seonghwa isn’t here and he also thought of his plea instead of saying it out loud, so there’s no way anyone could possibly respond. 

Yeonjun shakes his head at himself, sighing heavily. Soobin shifts beside him, drawing his husband’s attention, and Yeonjun looks over to see if he’s awake. But, thankfully, Soobin is still sound asleep, snoring softly. Yeonjun feels a smile tickle the corners of his lips as he brushes some hair away from Soobin’s face, his eyes drooping. 

“I love you, Soobinnie,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips against his husband’s forehead. Soobin’s nose twitches in retaliation and he rolls onto his back, grunting sleepily. Yeonjun smiles and slides back into bed, lying on his side. And then, ever so slowly, Yeonjun goes back to sleep. 

The next morning, as soon as breakfast is over, Yeonjun heads out of the palace. He shivers in the chill of the late-fall weather, looking around as he walks toward the temples. The largest stands proudly in the center, giant columns huge and imposing. 

When Yeonjun gets to Adonis’ altar, he removes his hood and sinks down onto his knees. He clutches his hands in front of his chest and shuts his eyes, breathing heavily. 

_ Adonis, _ he thinks,  _ please, please protect Park Seonghwa. Your empire is in trivia, please, I beg of you.  _ His lips move around the words and he mouths them, keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he prays.  _ Dear, great goddess, protect us. Protect us from your enemy and your fellows, protect Seonghwa in his journey here. Protect them, please. _ His nails dig into his skin and he feels a bright sting of pain before a few drops of blood slowly roll down from the wounds, leaving red streaks in their wake.  _ Protect my sons, please. Protect my sons and family and people from this plague until we have destroyed it. Please. _

“Yeonjun?” 

The man’s head jerks and he turns to see Hoseok standing near the entryway of the temple, a bouquet of flowers held in his arms. 

“Oh, Hoseok-Hyung,” he says. He bows his head at Hoseok as he walks over and places his flowers on the altar. “What - what are you doing here, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

Hoseok smiles weakly. 

“I’m going to try and talk to them,” he says. “I don’t - I feel bad for just . . . for just sitting back and letting everyone run around, so I’m doing what I can.” 

Yeonjun smiles at him. 

“It’s really okay,” he says. “No one really knows what to do. I don’t think anyone can blame you for sitting back and watch-”

Hoseok’s hand suddenly shoots out and he grabs Yeonjun’s wrist. His skin is icy cold and his eyes are blank, his jaw dropping his eyes roll back in his head. 

“Hyung?” Yeonjun says. He struggles, wiggling his wrist urgently. “Hyung, what are you doing? What’s going on?” 

Hoseok spasms, twitching in place while all the while maintaining his iron grip on Yeonjun’s wrist. He notices, then, that his fingernails are starting to darken, digging into Yeonjun’s skin and leaving small crescent moons in their wake.

**“Empress,”** a voice hisses, coming from Hoseok, though his mouth doesn’t move to form the words. His body remains limp.  **“Empress.”**

“A-Adonis?” Yeonjun stammers. He struggles in the god’s grip again, still trying to escape. “What - what are you doing?” 

**“Bring the black dragon and the ocean’s pearl,”** Adonis commands. Yeonjun’s heart thunders in his chest as the temperature in the room drops, his eyes wide. **“Either one will do. But you must bring them.”**

“How?” Yeonjun cries. “Where are they? How do we get them?” 

**“They are the only sacrifice he will take,”** Adonis says helpfully. **“You will not be free from this plague if you do not. You will not survive this if you do not.”**

And then, just as quickly as they came, Adonis leaves, blowing out the candles of the temple with a sharp, cold gust of wind. Hoseok falls limply to the ground and Yeonjun just barely manages to catch him. 

He seems to black out, then, as he gets up and begins to run. Sooner or later, he somehow manages to find himself in the infirmary, standing beside Hueningkai as the man tugs at his hair over his unconscious husband. Bora is holding Hoseok’s hand, her eyes watery. 

“Eomma?” she whimpers, squeezing his hand. “Eomma?” 

“Just like that? Really?” Hueningkai says, asking about what happened for the nth time. Yeonjun nods and the man growls in frustration. “Gods, I hate them for this. He can’t  _ take _ it.” 

“Appa,” Bora says, turning around to face her father, “what’s wrong with Eomma? Why isn’t he - what happened to him?” 

“I - he’s going to be fine,” Hueningkai says firmly. He shakes his head, curls swishing. “Everything’s going to be fine, don’t worry, Bora.” He paces about, mumbling under his breath. “Gods, I hate them. He hasn’t - his body isn’t - it’s not stable enough for this.” 

“I’m sorry, though I know it doesn’t help,” Yeonjun says. Hueningkai looks at him and shakes his head. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, waving his hand. “It’s - Adonis shouldn’t have done that. He’s going to get sick if they do.”

“Is it . . . is it a common occurrence?” Yeonjun says. 

“No, the opposite,” Hueningkai says. He sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. Bora looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “It just - they force their way into his body and mind, and he has to pay the price for it. Which, in every which way, is the stupidest thing in the world, but that’s just how it is.” He sighs, reaching up to grab two fistfuls of his hair and grip it so tightly his knuckles turn white. Purple sparks are also starting to appear. “No, no, no.” 

“Is he gonna die?” Bora says. 

“No, no,” Hueningkai amends, shaking his head. He crouches down in front of his daughter, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, everything’s going to be okay. Don’t worry about it, starlight.” 

“But . . . is Eomma going to wake up soon?” 

“He’ll be back before you know it,” Hueningkai teases. He kisses Bora on her forehead. “And, soon enough, you’ll be telling him to shut up again.” 

Bora giggles, shaking her head and shoving playfully at her father. Yeonjun and Hueningkai can both see that her casualness is fake, though. 

“What did they say to you?” Hueningkai says later, after they’ve sent Bora away. Yeonjun shrugs, sighing. 

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” he says. “But . . . well, I had a nightmare last night.” 

Hueningkai snorts. 

“Well that doesn’t sound good,” he says. 

“You’re right,” Yeonjun says grimly. He sighs. “It was about . . . it was about your brother-in-law.” 

“Seonghwa?” 

Yeonjun nods. 

“Yeah,” he says. He looks at his hands, closing his eyes and rubbing his face as scenes from his nightmare reappear on his eyelids. “Gods, I don’t even know if he’s still  _ alive _ .”

“What?” Hueningkai says, his eyes wide with shock. “He - what? How? Who - was he killed? Did something happen? What was it?” 

“Last I saw, he was drowning,” Yeonjun says. Hueningkai gasps. “I don’t know. I just . . . that’s I was there this morning, actually. I wanted to - I asked Adonis to try and protect us and him, though, if he’s dead, I suppose it’s a bit useless now.” 

“Gods,” Hueningkai says, “I hate this stupid fucking godly drama.”

Yeonjun barks a bitter laugh. 

“Who doesn’t?” he says. “What’s the point of being all-powerful if you can’t solve any of your problems?” 

Hueningkai shrugs, sighing as he rests his head on Hoseok’s chest. 

“I just . . . the last time this happened, Bora was . . . gods, it was years ago. She wouldn’t remember, really, and none of you would either - we were sitting alone in the library and Bora was nursing and then, suddenly, Hoseok just . . . he just stopped. It was as if - as if his brain totally stopped. Bora, I remember, began to cry. And then . . . and then Adonis just starts talking through him, saying they’ll bless Bora and all that crazy shit and talking about how they could do all of this . . . I don’t know. They said she’d be extremely powerful because she’s got a quarter of divine blood and then, well, my magic stuff, but . . . I mean, I might be mean or a bad dad, but I just . . . I really want her to live a normal life. I don’t want her to have to worry about all of this god and magic stuff. It’s not fair to her to tell her about it when she’s so young . . .” He sighs, shaking his head. “I just want her to live a normal life without all of this stuff we’ve grown up and dealt with.” 

Yeonjun hums, nodding. 

“You’re not a bad dad for wanting that,” he says. “It - while plenty of good things have come from magic and the gods, they both have also caused a lot of tragedy. There’s no reason for you not to want Bora to grow up without all of that.” 

“Yeah,” Hueningkai says. “That’s what Seok says. We’ve both agreed that we want her to live without it.” He smiles at Yeonjun. “Thank you, Hyung.” 

Yeonjun smiles back, getting up and reaching over to squeeze Hueningkai’s hand. 

“Thank  _ you _ ,” he says. “You’ve - you’ve really helped a lot with this, and I know . . . I know that sometimes you feel helpless because you don’t know what to do, but you’ve really done so much for us. For everyone, really, and Soobin and I are really grateful for all of your help.” 

Hueningkai laughs, smiling sheepishly. 

“It’s nothing, really, Hyung,” he says. “I just . . . I mean, I guess we’re all just doing what we can, right?” 

Yeonjun smiles back. 

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re just doing what we can.” 

“We should call a council,” Soobin says to him later as they work in their shared study. “For Seonghwa.” 

Yeonjun feels dread loom over him as he remembers his dream and the fact that he has yet to tell Soobin. 

“You - you should still call a council, but . . .” he trails off, looking away. 

“Did something happen?” Soobin says. “Is everything okay?” 

“It’s just - I had a dream about . . . about the dragon,” Yeonjun says. He twiddles his thumbs. “He - he was drowning in the - in some sort of ocean. I don’t know, I just - I’m sorry, Soobinnie.” 

“Why are you sorry?” Soobin says. “You didn’t do anything.” 

“Soobin, he’s probably dead by now!” Yeonjun says. “Soobin, he couldn’t . . . it didn’t look like he could even swim down there.”

“He’s a demigod,” Soobin says. “He can’t - it wouldn’t have worked that way. Fate wouldn’t have let him die.” 

“We don’t know that,” Yeonjun says. He puts his head in his hands. “Soobin, what if he’s dead? What if our one chance at getting rid of this stupid fucking curse is just - he’s dead, let’s say that. He’s dead. What are we going to do?” 

Soobin stares at him. 

“Did . . . did something happen?” he says. “You - you’re just - I’m sorry, this is probably going to make me sound like a dick, but you’re not . . . you aren’t usually like this.” 

Yeonjun stares at his husband. He tries to take a step back, tries to think about what’s going on and what he’s doing right now. 

_ I’m yelling at Soobin, _ he thinks.  _ I’m yelling at Soobin even though Soobin hasn’t done anything wrong and he’s only trying to help. I’m yelling- _

[ _ Pansy _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T271Va9sSA8)

“Hey, hey, hey, there’s no need to cry,” Soobin says, crouching down and cupping Yeonjun’s face. He brushes his tears away with his thumbs, clicking his tongue. “Baby, Yeonjunnie, honey, it’s okay. Really, it’s okay.” 

“I’m - I’m sorry,” Yeonjun blubbers. “I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay,” Soobin says. He presses their foreheads together. “I know you’re going through a lot right now and it’s okay for you to lash out at me. I’m not mad, and I know you don’t mean anything against me. It’s okay if you need to let go of some of that tension. We all do, especially in times like this.” 

Yeonjun sniffles, then he presses himself closer to Soobin, eventually clambering down from his seat to sit on top of his thighs. He sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the man’s shoulder. 

“What are we going to do?” he whispers sadly as another stray tear runs down his cheek. “If Seonghwa really  _ is _ dead-”

“-Then we’ll just have to barter with Risauri,” Soobin says. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gambled with gods.” 

“You nor I have ever actually  _ gambled _ with any divine beings,” Yeonjun mumbles, chuckling a bit. 

Soobin snorts. 

“It’s an expression,” he says, lifting his hands to gently comb his hands through Yeonjun’s hair. 

“Not a very good one,” Yeonjun tells him. Soobin huffs a laugh and shakes his head. 

“Humor me, will you?” he says. 

Yeonjun laughs and cuddles closer, sighing happily. 

“Mmm, maybe later,” he says. He allows his eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, to slowly fall shut. “I’m going to take a nap for a bit.”

“Oh, hold on, let me at least take you to bed,” Soobin says and then Yeonjun is being lifted into the air. He grunts and then adjusts accordingly, wrapping his arms around Soobin’s neck and leaning his head against his chest. 

He takes a nap for an hour or so, waking up to Soobin smiling fondly at him. 

Yeonjun grins slyly and rolls onto his back, winking. 

“Make love to me,” he says sleepily. Soobin snorts and shakes his head. 

“I can smell you from up here,” he says, his voice teasing. Yeonjun shrugs, walking two fingers up Soobin’s arm wiwth a cheshire cat grin. 

“Then you should know,” he says, “that I want you to fuck me.” 

“Aw, don’t be crass,” Soobin says. “I don’t fuck you anymore. We make love.” 

“We’ve also made children upon three different occasions,” Yeonjun grunts as he tries and fails to kick his blanket off. 

“Do you  _ want _ me to fuck you like we’re back on Ifan?” 

“The first thing I said to you, dumbass, was ‘make love to me’. I told you explicitly what I want,” Yeonjun says. Soobin laughs again, standing up and unpinning his jacket. He leaves his cloak draped over a chair and then begins removing his jewelry. Yeonjun watches, bored, sleepy, and a bit horny, while his eyelids continue to droop. Soobin drops his shirt and starts on his pants, grumbling about how annoying all of these clothes are. 

“Mm, but you look sexy,” Yeonjun says. Once again, Soobin laughs, finally freeing himself from all of his clothes, undergarments included, and then he crawls over to Yeonjun. 

“I know,” he says, winking playfully. Yeonjun laughs and kisses him, tangling his fingers in Soobin’s hair. 

“Dumbass,” he says fondly as they kiss. Soobin hums against his lips, resting his weight on his arms. Yeonjun, lazily, tells Soobin to do all of the work as he lies back, holding his arms out. Soobin snorts and shakes his head but he obeys, whispering promises and showering Yeonjun with sweet words that still make him feel all gooey on the inside. 

They lie in bed for quite a while after finishing. It’s nice to bathe in the afterglow of a good time with his husband, and Yeonjun can’t help the sleepy smile that overtakes his face as he rolls over to look at Soobin. His Alpha smiles back, his eyelids droopy as he reaches out to play with Yeonjun’s hair. 

“It’s been too long,” he murmurs. 

“Since what? Since we’ve had sex?” 

“That and since we’ve just . . . cuddled. Naked.” Soobin sighs, tugging Yeonjun close and pressing him against his body. “Hmm. Hits differently, you know?” 

Yeonjun snorts, shaking his head at his husband. 

“Gods, you’ll never cease to amaze me, will you?” he says. “I didn’t even - wow.” 

Soobin grins cutely, leaning forward to rub their noses together. 

“I’m spontaneous like that,” he says proudly. Yeonjun giggles, cuddling closer. 

“I love you,” he says. Soobin laughs. 

“I love you too.” 

If only their peace could’ve lasted longer. Yeonjun thinks back to it as they sit at the dinner table, exchanging nervous glances with his husband. Soobin is drumming his nails on the table and bouncing his leg while Yeonjun picks at his clothes and chews on his lower lip. 

“All right,” Yoongi says, putting his chopsticks down, “what is it with you two? What’s going on? Why do you keep glancing at each other like that?” 

Yeonjun and Soobin shift awkwardly now that they’ve been caught. And then, nervously, Soobin clears his throat. Slowly, the chatter at the table comes to an end as everyone turns to face Soobin. 

“Everyone,” he says, “I have . . . Yeonjun and I have some bad news.”

“What? What is it?” Minjun says. “Did something happen? Are you guys okay?” 

Yeonjun smiles at his son, reaching over to pat his hand. 

“It’s nothing like that, sweetie,” he says gently. He squeezes his hand and forces himself to keep eye contact, no matter how much it pains him. “It’s just that - well . . .”

“Seonghwa is, most likely, dead,” Soobin says. Yeonjun hears several people gasp. “Yeonjun had a dream, one of  _ those _ ones, and he-”

“He drowned,” Yeonjun says, forcing all of the emotions to stay out of his voice lest it begins to shake. His hands quiver, though, and he hates them for it. “He - he was leaving Aestrath by boat and was hit by a storm.” 

“Why was he leaving? We have to find him!” Taehyung says. He turns to his brothers. “We can’t just - Hyungs, that’s our brother!”

_ They’re thinking about Seokjin. _

“We should send out a search party to maybe retrieve the body,” Jimin suggests quietly. “It - he deserves a proper funeral, I think.” 

“Did - did he have any other family?” Yoongi says. “A mother, a sibling, friend, lover - did - was there anyone for him?” 

_ Hongjoong, _ Yeonjun remembers as everyone turns to him. 

“Hongjoong,” he blurts. “Hongjoong was his - his lover. They - he’s pregnant.” 

“Was he with him?” Taehyung says. “On the boat in the ocean when he drowned, was Hongjoong there? Did something happen to him?” 

“I don’t . . . I must confess that I don’t know,” he says. He wrings his hands. “I just - I don’t know - we don’t know if Seonghwa survived or not, but I think that we have to start looking for an alternative.” 

“Is there-”

**“The blood of the waves,”** a voice rumbles and everyone turns to look at Hoseok. Adonis stares back, drumming their nails and locking eyes with Yeonjun.  **“You are correct in your assumption that such will be harder to obtain. It’s possible, though. Aristok still wants these things. He wouldn’t have made it impossible for you to find them.”**

“Is - what does it refer to?” Jeongguk says. Hueningkai is seething, purple flames licking his fingers. “Do you - is it a person? Something alive?” 

Adonis laughs. 

**“That, dear general,”** they say,  **“is up to you all to figure out.”**

“Get out of him right now,” Hueningkai growls. He lifts his hand, displaying the bright ball of purple flames. “He is not your host.” 

The smile Adonis wears is cruel as they laugh a final time before leaving Hoseok. A harsh gust of wind blows suddenly though the dining hall, startling everyone as it escapes through some sort of invisible exit, the sound of ghostly laughter trailing behind. Hueningkai scowls before turning to his husband and resting a hand on his forehead, his expression worried. 

“Appa, is Eomma okay?” Bora says. Hueningkai offers a weak smile to his daughter. 

“Don’t worry,” Ji-Eun says to her cousin. “Everything’s going to be alright.” 

Bora looks at her cousin, then at her mother, and finally her father. Hueningkai smiles at her. 

“She’s right,” he says. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” 

Yeonjun really,  _ really _ wishes that that was the case. Yet, as they decide whether or not to start sending out search parties to search through the Turwe to find Seonghwa’s body, he can’t help but feel as if the truth is the exact opposite of what he wants it to be. Then again, it seems as if things are normally like that nowadays, so he doesn’t think he should be  _ that _ surprised. Of course, even though he  _ should  _ be used to it, Yeonjun continues to fall victim to the random moments or periods of peace. 

For instance, when it comes to his dreams, they seem to go silent. After Seonghwa’s death (or so they think. Yeonjun really hopes he’s wrong because that would mean that they’d have to go and, once again, maybe barter with Risauri for one of their children.), he stops getting strange dreams. The fields of pansies and violets fade to the back of his mind as other issues move to the forefront of his mind. Most importantly, the plague. 

They have yet to discover any sort of way to ease the pain of it. Yeonjun finds himself working in the infirmary as often as he can, trying his hardest to offer what help he can. Soobin sends letters and will join the rest of him as much as he can, though Yeonjun can still tell that he’s angry with himself because he isn’t doing what he deems to be enough. 

“Soobin-ah, it’s fine, really,” Yeonjun says gently as they lie in bed together, the dim light of a single candle being the only thing illuminating their bedroom. “No one’s angry with you; we’re all just doing what we can.” 

“It just feels like I’m not doing enough,” Soobin says. He sighs, rolling onto his back so he can stare up at the ceiling. 

Yeonjun snorts, also rolling onto his back. 

“Well, to you,” he says, “it always feels like that. You’re always second-guessing yourself and you never think that anything you do is enough.” He shifts so he’s on his side, pressing his cheek against his knuckles. “Soobinnie, sweetie, you’re going to be in countless history books already. There’s no way-”

“But I want to go down as a good emperor, don’t I?” he says. “I mean, sure, I fought in the rebellion and even ended up leading it, but what else is there? And what if we have to face another rebellion, but this time we’re on the wrong side?”

“Okay, first of all, why would you assume that we’d be on the wrong side of the rebellion if there was one?” Yeonjun says, frowning and tilting his head. “Second of all, why would you assume that there’d be a rebellion?” 

“To answer your first question, it’s because that would have to mean I’m not doing something right. It would mean that I’m hurting someone with my rules-”

“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun says, grabbing his husband’s face and squishing his cheeks, “you’ve done so many great things. Stop downplaying your achievements.” 

“But-”

“You overthrew a tyrant,” Yeonjun says, listing on his fingers. “You rewrote a totally unjust set of laws and have greatly improved relations with other territories. You’ve established new trade routes and gotten the Far Islands back into Ifanian territory. Soobinnie, you’re the one who got same secondary sex marriage legal! You’ve - you’ve broken up the classes and spread your wealth around and made it so everyone lives comfortably! How - how would anyone be angry?” 

“I just - I don’t-”

Yeonjun surges forward and kisses him. 

“You’re really kinda stupid sometimes,” he grumbles. Soobin grins a little at him, reaching out to cup Yeonjun’s face. 

“I mean, so are you,” he says and Yeonjun scowls. 

“Mean,” he says, pouting as he leans forward for another kiss. Soobin laughs at him, shaking his head before shifting about to make it easier for them to kiss. 

“Am not,” he says. Yeonjun huffs, kissing him again. 

“We should start trying to find the quote-unquote ‘blood of the waves’,” Yeonjun says. Soobin hums, nodding as he tugs his husband onto his chest with a loud, sleepy sigh.

“Mmm, later,” he says, his voice raspy. Yeonjun laughs, rolling onto his stomach as he cuddles his mate. Soobin begins combing through his hair with his fingers while Yeonjun sighs happily, his eyelids slowly beginning to droop. 

And then, for the first time in what feels like ages, Yeonjun finds himself in a field. However, despite how long it’s been, fear still stabs its icy claws into his heart as he looks around, trying to see through the darkness. 

“Aristok!” he calls into the darkness. “Aristok, I know it’s you! Get - come out!” 

As expected, Yeonjun’s yelling is met with a cold, heavy silence. He hugs himself and looks around, shivering. The field is cold, though there isn’t any sort of breeze. It seems rather cut-off from everything else, though, Yeonjun supposes, it is a dream. 

“Aristok, your son is dead!” Yeonjun yells, cupping his hands around his mouth to maybe magnify the sound of his voice. “Aristok-”

**“What will you give me for my beloved?”** a voice hisses, this one thick and reptilian. It’s raspy and it sounds as if a thousand snakes are speaking in unison. Yeonjun looks around, trying to pinpoint the voice’s origin. His hands turn into fists by his sides, his knuckles white. 

“Who are you?” he says. He looks around, then he looks down when he feels some sort of liquid submerge his feet. Its consistency is the same as that of water, though it’s the color of ink. Yeonjun, for one, doesn’t want to be touching it. 

However, it appears as if he doesn’t have a choice. For, much faster than he would’ve thought possible, the water, for lack of a better term, is (somehow) beginning to rise. It crushes the flowers in its hurry to surround the man, climbing up until he’s neck deep in the inky black liquid. Yeonjun tilts his head up in a meek effort to try and keep breathing, though it soon becomes clear that such a thing is impossible as the water drags him beneath the surface. 

When he opens his eyes, two bright golden orbs seem to have appeared in front of him. Yeonjun tries to swim away, to get to the surface, yet it’s of no use. The liquid surrounding him forces him back, and Yeonjun is powerless when it comes to moving. 

**“Do not run, mortal,”** the voice hisses. Yeonjun turns around and tries to muster his courage as he stares into the orbs, though he’s pretty sure that they’re eyes.  **“I have come to barter with you.”**

_ For what? _ Yeonjun thinks. The god (or so he thinks) before him tilts their head, though Yeonjun can only tell with how their eyes seem to move. 

**“You and your people seek something of mine,”** they say. They seem to move closer.  **“I do not intend to give it up.”**

_ So how could we barter if you do not intend to give what is asked of you? _ Yeonjun thinks. The god seems to laugh. 

**“While you are correct in your assumption that my son is mine and mine only,”** Risauri says,  **“you are wrong to assume that we still cannot barter.”**

_ With what, though? _ Yeonjun thinks.  _ You’ve made it clear that- _

**“You are foolish,”** Risauri hisses angrily.  **“Do you not know to accept help from the gods?”**

Yeonjun scowls, or so he thinks, and shakes his head violently. 

_ Leave me alone, Risauri, _ he thinks.  _ I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m quite certain that it is something I will hate to give up. _

A roar breaks through the easy quiet of Yeonjun’s dream, then, and he feels the waters around him grow stronger. He begins to swim as best as he can toward what he thinks is the surface, praying he can break through. 

However, a hand grabs him by the ankle and tugs him down, and then he wakes up. 

He chooses not to tell anyone except for Soobin about the dream. They talk quietly about it, discussing what Risauri could possibly want in return for their son. 

“I just - I mean, they said they’d never give him up,” Yeonjun says. He puts his head in his hands and sighs. “These gods and their strange, strange minds.” 

Soobin hums, nodding. 

“And what would they offer to be his replacement? Seonghwa is, most likely, dead by now. Aristok hasn’t asked for anything else.”

“Have any of the others had any strange dreams?” Yeonjun says. “Or is it just me?” 

Soobin looks up at him and sighs. 

“Just you,” he says. He frowns, picking at his lower lip. There’s a map spread out beneath them along with a few open books placed randomly over the large desk. “I mean, if anyone  _ is _ having weird dreams, then neither of us have heard about it yet.”

“Do . . . do you think it could happen to the kids?” Yeonjun says quietly. Soobin shrugs, sighing softly. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I just - I don’t know how or when it chooses to come, since mine just - they started arriving when I was six. I don’t know about you-”

“I didn’t have them until we started going to war,” Yeonjun says. “And then I dreamt about Namjoon-Hyung dying, so that was pleasant, I suppose.” 

“Everyone except for him had that dream at some point,” Soobin says. “I just - I really wonder why. They’re fickle things, dreams, just like magic.” 

“I think they  _ are _ magic,” Yeonjun drawls. “That, in my opinion, is the most reasonable explanation for them.” 

Soobin nods. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “But, I guess . . . I don’t know. It - magic, that is, it seems to be the explanation for most things.”

“Which is terribly frustrating since we have nearly no idea what it is and how it really works,” Yeonjun grumbles. He crosses his arms and sits back, slouching in his chair. “It - it isn’t - I hate it. Why does everything important have to be so mysterious?” 

“Who knows?” Soobin says. He sighs heavily, looking down at the map. “All I know is that this is a problem and we’ve been tasked with solving it.” 

“Gods, this sucks,” Yeonjun says. “I don’t - I don’t want to have to clean up this mess made by these deities who are too wimpy to do it themselves.” 

Soobin snorts, pulling him close. 

“Be careful, Yeonjunnie, dear,” he says sweetly. “We don’t want to anger the gods any more than we already have, do we?” 

Yeonjun scowls at him, shifting to push him with his shoulder. Soobin laughs and hugs him tighter. There’s a sort of desperation laced with his embrace that Yeonjun notices, though, and he feels the slightest pain in his chest as it clenches. He hugs Soobin back and presses his face into the crook of his neck, sniffling softly. 

“It’s going to be okay, Soobinnie,” he whispers. “Everything - everything’s going to be okay. Don’t worry. Don’t worry, I know.” 

Soobin whimpers, pulling him closer. 

“I love you,” he says. “I love you so, so much, Yeonjunnie, I love you, I love you, thank you so much.” 

Yeonjun sniffles and tries to fight his tears, though he knows it’s in vain. They slide slowly down his cheeks and land in small droplets around them, staining their clothes and skin as they both cry. 

Yeonjun hates how slowly everything seems to be moving. Everything is so, so slow and so, so sad. He hears the talk of funerals flitting through the corridors of the palace as he walks around, taunting him. He hates it and, honestly, wishes for everything and everyone to be quiet. He knows it’s a bit unreasonable and definitely a lot to ask for, though there’s no harm in wishing for it, is there?

“We should tell the council that Seonghwa is dead,” Yoongi says over lunch. 

“What - did we even introduce him in the first place?” Jeongguk says. “Or, well, I guess do they even know he exists?” 

“With the posters? They’ve definitely seen him. We just . . . I don’t know,” Beomgyu says. He sighs. “Maybe . . . how are we planning on kidnapping a prince? A siren, at that.” 

“Who knows? It’s not exactly something that happens every day,” Jeongguk says. He slumps in his seat, then turns to lean his head on Taehyung's shoulder. “Gods, this is a whole mess.” 

“You can say that again,” Jimin grumbles. He puts his head in his hands. “Ugh, what are we going to  _ do _ ?” 

“Well,” Yeonjun says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “I, um, had a dream about Risauri. And they - um, well, they asked to barter with me.” 

“Wait, really?” Hueningkai says. 

“When?” Hoseok asks. 

“What did you say?” Taehyung calls. 

Yeonjun sits back from them, his eyes wide. He looks over at Soobin. His husband nods at him. 

“I - I told them, essentially, to fuck off,” Yeonjun mumbles. He hears several people gasp. “They - they said they didn’t want to barter for their son, though! I didn’t - I didn’t know what they’d ask for!” 

There’s mumbling around the table. 

“Well, it’s not Yeonjun’s fault,” Yoongi says. “None of us could’ve known what they were asking for and we all have a asort of history with immortal beings.” He looks around the table, his gazing finally coming to land on Yeonjun. “Do you know . . . do you think you could contact them again, though?” 

Yeonjun shifts in place and shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says quietly, looking down at his lap. He lifts his head and tries to muster his courage. “But - but I promise to try.” 

He really does. That night, before going to bed, Yeonjun goes out to the temple to Risauri, walking in quietly. The scent of the sea hits him and he shivers beneath his cloak, though it’s not from the cold. He’s alone in the building and his barefeet make soft sounds as he walks. His shoes wait patiently by the door and Yeonjun goes inside slowly, looking around the dimly lit room. 

He reaches the main altar and slowly gets down on his knees. A large, imposing statue of a stone serpent looks down at him, its eyes cold and empty. Yeonjun presses his hands together and begins to pray, speaking quietly under his breath. Distantly, he thinks he can hear the sound of waves lapping against the surf, though he’s not sure if he’s projecting or not. 

He finishes quickly and dusts himself off, getting up and grabbing his shoes on his way out. Yeonjun walks quickly to get back home, his cloak held over his face to keep from breathing in the scent of the plague. 

Of course, despite all of his praying, Yeonjun isn’t visited by Risauri that night. Instead, he has another nightmare.

A terrible shriek cuts through the air, and Yeonjun finds himself in a forest. He leaps to his feet and sprints towards the the origin of the cry, sweat dripping down his brow from the heat. He finds a clearing and there are two boys there, both of them sitting. He recognizes the messenger and the queen from the north, Jisung. 

“Jisung, Minho!” he says in a voice that doesn’t belong to him. Minho looks up, his eyes wide, while Jisung continues to gasp and writhe in his arms. His left leg is a mess of blood, his clothes soaked as he cries. 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” Minho stammers. “He just - it came out of nowhere and I - and I . . .” He trails off, looking to his left. Yeonjun turns and finds the corpse of some sort of monster lying on the ground, an inky liquid dripping from its gaping maw. It’s mixed with traces of wine-red and Yeonjun feels his stomach flip at the sight of the boot. He turns back to Jisung and finds that he’s missing his left foot, and some sort of black essence is crawling eagerly up his leg. 

“We have - we have to cut it off,” he breathes. 

“NO!” Jisung shrieks, turning to look at them. He looks delirious, his eyes wide and his cheeks tear-streaked. He shakes his head quickly. “No, no, no, don’t-”

“Calm him down for me, okay?” Yeonjun says. Minho nods and nuzzles the side of Jisung's neck, cooing against his skin. Yeonjun lifts his hands and tightens his ponytail before grabbing a dagger from his belt. It’s heavy in his hand and made of pale bone, catching the light of the sun when it’s unsheathed. He adjusts his grip and presses his hand against Jisung’s thigh, whispering a few words. A burst of purple magic pushes through and Jisung jerks in surprise. Then, before Yeonjun or Jisung or Minho can register what’s going on, he lifts the dagger and brings it down as hard as he can on Jisung’s thigh. 

A blood-curdling shriek cuts through the sound of Minho’s cooing and Jisung’s soft sobs. The Omega thrashes angrily, crazily, and claws at the arm of the Alpha holding him back. Yeonjun, though he thinks he’s seeing things through Hueningkai’s eyes, shuts his eyes as he tries to saw through the bone. He’s working against the clock too, or so it seems, as the infection is spreading quickly. Minho has blood dripping from his hand where Jisung’s sunk his teeth into the skin, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Knock him out,” Minho pants. “Please, please, I can’t bear to have him-”

Yeonjun - or Hueningkai, he supposes - turns and focuses as hard as he can on the Omega until Jisung’s head slumps. Minho loses some of the tension in his posture, but he still seems to be stressed out. His brow is furrowed and he’s staring at Yeonjun as he cuts through the bone of Jisung’s thigh, trying to transfer as much magic into it as possible while staying conscious. 

“Break it, just break it!” Minho says. “We don’t have time to wait-”

The bone suddenly snaps beneath the knife and Yeonjun lifts Jisung’s leg before tossing it away. As it flies through the air, he lifts a hand and a ball of magic lurches toward it, encasing the limb. It lands, though, instead of a leg, a patch of flowers blossoms. 

“Can - can you carry him back?” Hueningkai says as spots begin to cloud his vision. He holds a hand out to steady himself while the other goes to press against his temple. “I think - I think I can stay awake long enough to offer some sort of bandage for the wound and get back, but I don’t - I don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, no problem,” Minho says, gingerly lifting Jisung. Hueningkai moves so his open palm is pointed toward Jisung and he feels his energy waning as he imagines the stump where his leg used to be bandaged up. He leans against Minho as they slowly stumble back through the forest, following the path Yeonjun cut through the brush. Just as a group of tents appears, though, Hueningkai’s eyes flutter once, and then he loses hold of his consciousness.

Yeonjun wakes up gasping for air. Jisung’s screams are ringing in his ears and he swears he can still feel the boy’s blood painting his skin. He looks around his darkened bedroom, turning to Soobin. His husband is peacefully asleep, his back to Yeonjun. 

“Gods, Jisung,” Yeonjun whispers, drawing his knees up and putting his head in his hands. “Oh my gods, Jisung, what did - what did I  _ do?” _

“Eomma?” a voice says then and Yeonjun’s head jerks up. He finds the door to be open just a bit with Jaehwan standing quietly. He’s holding one of his dolls and chewing on his fingernail, eyes darting around the room nervously. 

“Hwannie?” Yeonjun says. He gets up and walks over. “Do - did you have a nightmare, sweetie?” 

Jaehwan nods and Yeonjun hugs him. 

“You wanna sleep with Mama?” he says. Jaehwan nods. Yeonjun smiles and leads him to the bed, letting him curl up beside his father before joining. Jaehwan cuddles up to him with a gentle sigh, and it isn’t long before he’s fallen asleep. Yeonjun joins him not long after, closing his eyes and praying for peace. 

He begins going to the library much more frequently after his dream about Jisung. He searches through records and tries to figure out as much as he can about the plague and every other disease that’s been in Ifan. He searches up curses and carries the books around, coughing when the dust fills his lungs. Some of them are so old that there are only scroll versions, and Yeonjun has to be extra careful to make sure none of them rip. 

But, well, it at least gives him something to do. And, to be honest, that’s all that Yeonjun really wants. He just needs to convince himself that he’s doing something. 

Unfortunately, he’s not the only one. 

“Your Imperial Majesty, Your Imperial Majesty!” someone cries, breaking through the normal quiet of the library. Yeonjun curiously looks up at the servant and tilts his head, taking in her flushed appearance. 

“What is it? Is something wrong?” he says, rising from his seat. The servant puts her hands on her knees and pants, gasping for air. She looks up, then, and her expression is scarily grim.

“It’s Minjun.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!


End file.
